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1873 

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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
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http://www.archive.org/details/conspiracydrama01well 



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THE 



CONSPIRACY 












ft. D. HENRY, PRINTER, 

JOHNSTOWN, N. J. 

1873. 







'- 

- 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year eighteen huudn 
and seventy-three, 

By JOHN WELLS, 

in the Oflice of tiie Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



THE CONSPIRACY. 



Persons of the Drama. 

The King. 

Dr. John, Greek Professor. 

The Prince, 

Paul, 

Frank, 

Mark, )■ Students. 

Ernest, 

Angelo, a Clairvoyant. 

Julian, 

The Princess, Daughter of the King. 

Anna, Daughter of Dr. John. 

Pauline, Sister to Paul. 

Other Students, Citizens, Lords, Ladies, cfc. y $c. 



ACT I. 
Scene I. — A Grove in the grounds of a University. 
Enter Frank, Mark, Ernebt, Angelo, Julian, and other Students, 

Ernest. This is the spot. We'll wait here, till he come. 

Frank. There is old Plato. Bless his good old soul. 
He has a heart to match his grand old head. 
I doubt if ever towered a nobler brow 
On Grecian statue. All heads bare. Hats off. 

Enter Dr. John. 

Dr. John. Good morning, gentlemen ! What enterprise 
Have you afoot, to signalize this day 
And beauteous place ? It must be some high aim, 
That in such brave array doth call you forth. 



2 THE CONSPIRACY. [Act L 

Frank. On deeds of high emnrise are we intent*. 
Know st thou of some fierce monster, to be slain, 
Or beauteous damsel, wandering all forlorn, 
In forest lost, or lonely captive kept, 
In lofty tower, or dark, deep horrid cave, 
By giant grim, or bloody baron bold ? 
Oh ! speak ! that to the rescue we may rush. 

Dr. John. Monsters enow — of vice and wrong — - 
there are, 
And doubtless damsels in distress who sigh, 
For valorous knights to rush to their relief. 
But bearded champions they do prefer. 
Wait, my dear sirs ! till ye are out of school, 
And have your beards ere ye adventure forth 
On such achievements and essay to play, 
The gentle knight a pricking on the plain. 
But, speak, sirs ! tell me, wherefore are ye here ? 

Frank. I will expound. You know, that by the courses" 
Of antique custom, here by men renowned 
Ordained of old 

Music heard' 

Students. Hark ! Hush ! There's music here. 

Frnest. 'Tis floating in the air. Whence can it come ?• 

Angelo. How sweet and spirit like it is ! 

Dr. John. It breathes 

A strange, unearthly sweetness. It must be, 
That in the air some gentle Ariel 
Is hovering orer us. 

Frank. More like, 'tis Puck,, 

The merry fay. He's stole iEolus' lyre, 
From off the pine upon the mountain top, 
To practice on it airs of fairy land. 
He seeks to lure us off to some lone place, 
Some deep dark dell, or secret strange recess, 
Amidst the forest, where the fairies haunt, 
And where bewildered in the tangled wilds 
We'll be within his power, for him, the imp, 
To play his pranks and knavish tricks upon. 

Mark. Hist ! Hist ! The music dies away ! 'Tis gone I 

Dr. John. Now, speak, sir ! Tell me wherefore are 
ye here ? 



Scene I. THE CONSPIRACY. 3 

Frank. I will explain. You know that by the course 
Of custom immemorial, in this 
Most ancient seat of learning and of wit, 
"We students, here, to-morrow, publicly, 
Must be, in scholarship and eloquence, 
Examined by the learned men of the realm. 
For genius and for learning, prizes rare, 
Medals and marks of honor are in store ; 
And he, who first in merit shall be found 
Will be the heir unto a crown, a wreath, 
'That on his brow should by the King be placed — 
E'en by the sacred hand of majesty. 
But to the wars away the King has gone ; 
And none is there to do this duty now, 
But she, the lovely Princess, his fair child, 
Whom in his place, he's left to rule the realm 
As his imperial prototype, the sun, 
When he doth visit the antipodes, 
Doth by the moon, sweet regent of the night, 
In gentle reflex of his mightier beam, 
Still unto us dispense his Jblessed light. 
Hence has our royal eomrade, the good Prince, 
The cousin of the Princess, gone to learn 
From her, if she will take her father's place 
And grace to-morrow's victor with his crown. 
Oh ! doubly precious will the glory he 
From her fair hand 1 The Prince will soon be here 
And we have come to meet him and to learn, 
As soon as it may be, the word he brings. 
Lo ! yonder eom.es he. Mercury ne'er sped, 
Swift messenger of Heaven, with word from Jove, 
To those who watched for him more eagerly. 

live Music heard again. 

Angelo. The music comes again. Hark ! how it swells 
As from afar 'twere wafted down to us. 
Hist ! Now it dies away, as up again 
'Twere borne on viewless wings to airy heights. 
It comes again ! 'Tis here ! 

Mark. 'Tis here ! 

Frank. 'Tis in the breeze ! 

Angelo. There is some tricky spirit round, that seeks 



4 THE CONSPIRACY, [Act I. 

With this sweet mockery to sport with us. 

Dr. John. There runs a thread of sadness through 
the strain. 
Methinks the harps of Judah hung upon 
The willows by the streams of Babylon, 
Though mute to Zion's songs, may to the winds, 
That swept their chords, have breathed just such sweet 
tones. 

Frank. 'Tis some melodious zephyr in the trees. 
Perchance some fancy-striken youth has strung 
Among these leaves a lyre iEolian, 
For the airy fingers to perform upon, 
And these sweet airs, that thus salute our ears, 
Are but the touches of the airs of Heaven. 

Enter the Prince. 

Students. Hail to the Prince ! Peace ! Silence ! 
Let us hear. 

Prince. Rejoice, comrades ! Glorious the news I bring. 
The Princess graciously doth grant our prayer. 
To-morrow she will come with all her court 
Of Lords and ladies fair and learned men, 
To test our scholarship and eloquence. 
In the evening, at the palace, she will give 
In honor of our class, a festival ; 
A royal one, whereto we all will go 
And taste of earth's selectest revelry. 

Frank. Heaven bless our lovely Princess. 

Mark. As she's good 

And beautiful, may she be ever blest. 

Angela. We'll see what Homer in his raptures saw, 
When Venus, in her beauty walked before 
Him on Olympus. 

Frank. There'll be a Hebe there, 

Whom I shall see, with nectar — on her lips, 
Sweeter than Jove e'er sipped. 

Dr. John. And doubtless all 

The Graces will be there and troops of nymphs. 
Invite a poet and the counterparts 
He'll find to all the gods and goddesses. 
Give it a Homer, and each age would be 
Heroic, every mountain an Olympus. 



Scene I.] THE CONSPIRACY. 5 

Angelo. Heaven from its brightest constellations shed 
On our sweet Princess happiest influence. 

The Music heard. 

Prince. What music 's this, that breathes so sweetly 
here-? 

Frank. 'Tis some enchantment, that doth haunt the 
place. 

Prince. It softly swells, then dies upon the breeze, 
Rising and falling with each airy wave. 
It seems as from above afar it came. 

Frank. The voice of harpers harping with their harps, 
I'll bet the pearly gates are now ajar 
And these sweet notes have thence escaped ; or else 
It is some genial spirit stolen forth 
To have a laugh at us, some syren of 
The golden harps come down to puzzle us 
And to allure us with these hints of Heaven. 

Prince. It is a strange peculiar melody. 
But comrades ! where is Paul, our gentle friend ? 
'Tis strange that he's not here. 

Ernest. We've seen him not. 

Julian. As you do say 'tis strange that he's not here, 
'Tis said, that he aspires unto the crown. 
Perhaps his courage fails him and he yields 
The prize to bolder aspirants — else sure 
He would be here. 

Prince. I'll go and seek for^him. 

I've news, that will be music in his ears. 

Frank. Hold ! there's that strain again. 'Tis 
coming here. 

Prince. It louder is, as if it nearer came. 

Mark. Huzza ! see there ! see there ! What tree 
is this, 
That bears such fruit as that ? 

Paul discovered in the Tree. 

Frank. Ha ! ha ! Strange fruit indeed ! 

Some species new. Special spontaneous 
Developement! Most like, on some such tree 
Sprang forth that old primeval ape, that was 
Our great ancestor. Darwin ! Science that I 



•6 TTJE CONSPIRACY. [Act I. 

Or else ; I have it now — a theory 

Historical and theological, 

And exegetical and pomological, 

I do suspect, that 'tis the kind of fruit, 

With which the serpent tempted mother Eve 

In Paradise. 

Mark. And ail the mothers since. 

Paul comes down from tlie Tree. 

Ernest. By all the powers and spirits it is Paul. 

Julian. By all the fiends and devils it is he. 

Prince. Art thou this spirit that's been mocking us 
With this mysterious music so weirdlike ? 

Frank. Stick pins in him and see if 'tis real flesh 
Or only some thin immaterial stuff. 
Were any of Eve's daughters here, Ave'd let 
Her take a bite and see what fruit it is. 

Julian (aside.) It is my dagger that I'd stick in him. 
He is the only rival that I fear. 
Were he out of the way, the crown were mine 
With all the honors, that will come with it. 

Paul. Good friends 'twas but a jest — I Avill explain. 
I had come out alone into this grove, 
And here was sitting on this grassy bank, 
Listening unto the music floating round. 
And ever now and then upon my lute 
I'd catch such notes from breeze, and brook and bird, 
As struck my fancy. Thus it was I made 
The little melody which you did hear. 
Just then I saw you coming and I thought 
I'd try my music on you. So I hid 
In these thick branches, and as you came near, 
I threw out on the breeze the notes you heard ; 
It was their wild and fitful character, 
Caught from the zephyr, that perplexed you so 
And puzzled you to know, whence came 
The mystic and uncertain harmony. 
The jest succeeded better than I thought. 

Prince. 'Twas a most delicately merry jest ; 
'Tis clear the zephyr did conspire with you 
And instigate the mischief. But come friends, 
We now must hasten back unto our work. 



Scene I.] THE CONSPIRACY. X 

Think, what the morrow has for us to do ! 

Frank. Of the bright eyes that on us then will beam. 

Mark. And the sweet smiles that with those beams 
will blend. 

Ernest. And of the honors that we there shall win. 

Julian. And of the crown that one of us will wear. 

Prince. And the fair hand that will bestow that crownv 

Paul. And of the honor of these ancient halls 
Of learning, whose proud fame we must sustain. 

Prince. We'll make these groves and shades of ours 
renowned, 
As were of old the walks of Academe. 

Frank. We'll leave our foot prints on the sands of 
time, 
That when we have departed, seeing them 
The world will say of us, " They walked with Plato." 

(bowing to Dr. John.) 
Or, " Here (to Julian) was a Demosthenes," or " lo 1 
Here, (to Angelo) is a step Parnassian, on the heights 
Where Homer stood," " Their (to Paul and the Prince) 

noble deeds 
In lustre and true glory well might be, 
Sisters unto those daughters, pure as fair, 
Epaminondas left unto his country." 

Dr. John. Go on, Sir ! Socrates, Isocrates, 
Xenocrates, Solon, Crates, 
Aristides and Aristoteles, 
Thucydides and Sophocles, 
Praxiteles and Pericles, and scores 
Of starry ones ye well might name for bright 
Comparison, for in her annals grand 
Old Greece has specimens of every kind 
Of glory. 

Prince. Come away ! To toil let's give the day. 
That we our parts to-morrow well may play. 

Exeunt, 



Act I ] THE CONSPIRACY. 

Scehe 2d.— A Walk in ths University Grounds. 

Enter Frank, Ernest and Mark. 

Frank. Wise as the serpent, harmless as the dove ! 
That means, we should use policy ; — should have 
The spirit of the dove, its soul of love 
And gentleness ; but with it should unite 
The serpent's sharper qualities,- — its tact. 
Its keen-eyed, still, adroit and lowly art, 
Its pliancy to bend to obstacles 
And wind around them to its purposes. 
Our aims should e'er be noble, to do good, 
To make men happy and earth beautiful ; 
But then to do all this, — to realize 
These aims and work out these results of good 
And beauty, — we must wisdom have, prudence 
And policy ; or as the text doth bid, 
The serpent with the dove we must combine. 
To do things wisely, well, effectually, 
Is just as much a duty, as it is 
To do at all. To go to Rome, we need 
Not strike a bee-line, dig the Alps, or scale 
The rocks and glaciers. Rather we should shun 
The perilous and craggy peaks and seek 
The vales and trodden passes. The right way 
Is that, which surest leads to the right end. 
The mountain paths wind up through the ravines. 
At sea, the sailor trims his course to wind 
And current. So in all great enterprise 
The occasion and the circumstance will best 
Suggest the way. For what is circumstance 
But Providence/ t"he winds He breathes, the waves 
He lifts and rolls to waft or dash us on 
Upon our destined way^. Well, now, 
We have in view an enterprise — a work 
Before us for our country, — to achieve 
Its liberty. A noble aim, is't not ? 

Ernest. In every age the special work of heroes. 

Frank. To attempt it openly, were but to dash 
Madly against the glaciers and the rocks 



Scene II.] THE CONSPIRACY, 

And wake the avalanche, to fight with it. 
Hence from the serpent we must take our cue ; 
Through thy dark winding ways, Oh ! thou wise snake, 
Cunning Conspiracy ! creep stealthily, 
But not less nobly onward to our end. 

Mark. Aye, policy and stern necessity 
Both point it out, as our true only course. 

Ernest. I like it not. But it must needs be so. 
Yes, anything and everything for country ! 
Yet, I do like it not. I'd rather give 
Our banner to the winds and boldly march, 
With shout and trumpet blast and cannon peal, 
To victory or death. I like it not. 
But anything I'll do, and everything 
I'll dare, to win sweet liberty, 
And make our dear, beloved country free. 

Franl. It is the motive, that gives character 
Unto the act. A noble end 
Ennobles every step, that leads to it. 
In climbing mountains, we do bend and stoop, 
And on the craggy steeps and slippery ways, 
Oft on our knees creep up to glorious heights. 
I have now in my mind a character, 
One of the noblest spirits of the times, 
Whose life has been one long conspiracy. 
Hated and hunted of the tyrants, he 
With plots and wiles has met and baffled them ; 
His genius, zeal and purpose pure and high, 
Mightier than were an army in the field. 
In prison, exile, pain and poverty, 
Yet has he been a power in the world, 
A menace and a terror unto tyranny. 
With pure, unselfish and untiring zeal, 
He's toiled on, ever to his country true, 
And to his great idea of liberty, 
Alike the truest hero of the age, 
And most inveterate conspirator. 

Mark. Aye, Italy, in all its long bright list, 
Has not a name of purer lustre. 

Ernest. Tell me, how now do stand the citizens ? 

Frank. Eager for insurrection. Just ablaze. 
The city's like a kindling fire ; a breath 



10 THE CONSPIRACY. [Ac, 

Once blown, the flame of revolution forth 
Will burst to startle and to light the -world. 

Ernest. Has Paul yet given his assent ? 

Frank. Not yet ; 

But he'll be with us. We must have his name. 
'Twere worth to us more than an armed troop. 
By sweet attractive love and kindliness, 
E'en as a sun 'mong men, he wins their hearts; 
And good men circle round him planet-like, 
And cluster in bright constellation. Thus 
Doth earth present its counterpart to Heaven ; 
Its asterisms of the good and wise, 
High starry minds, pure natures like clear skies, 
And shining galaxies of noble souls. 
Aye, we must have his name and influence. 
He'll be the Brutus of our enterprise. 

Mark. The Cassius thou. Your names as their's 
will be, 
Like double stars blended in history. 
Or greater still, ye'll be the Washington 
And Adams of our revolution. Or 
Epaminonidas and Pelopidas, 
Of Grecian glory, your bright prototypes 
We'll name, in what ye'll yet effect, we trust, 
Of high achievement, for your country wrought 
And proud renown. 

Frank. There were two Adamses 

With scores of patriots and noble men 
Who stood with Washington. E'en so, of us 
There'll be a cluster in the heaven 
Of history. 

Ernest. But think you not, our friend 
Is of a nature all too gently tuned ? 
He's not of the stern mold that Brutus was. 

Frank. True, he's of gentle nature : Yet in him 
There is the stuff, that heroes are made of. 
I do remember, one dark gusty night, 
When through the startled city piercing rang 
The cry of "fire". The citizens, awaked 
And guided by the glare, that lit the night, 
Rushed to the conflagration. But too late. 
A stately mansion stood, enwrapped in flames, 



Scene II. THE CONSPIRACY. 11 

That seemed exultingly to sweep the skies 

And bid defiance to the crowd, that stood 

And gazed at them in sad stern impotence. 

When, lo ! a woman's shriek did pierce our ears, 

And swiftly, through the pallid multitude, 

The whisper ran, that 'twas a mother's cry, 

And that her babe was in the burning ruin. 

The mocking fires smote back the rushing crowd, 

That sprang unto the rescue. Baffled shrank 

Brave men, who had stood eye to eye with death. 

And hope died in our hearts. When suddenly 

A youth appeared amidst the flames, that seemed 

To seize him as their victim, as he leaped, 

Fearless amidst them. For an interval, 

A breathless agonizing instant, he 

Was gone, lost to our eager straining sight, 

And the fierce conflagration wildly waved 

Its crests upon the wind, as it had won 

Another prey ; when, lo ! again he came, 

And shook the flames from off him and did place 

The sleeping babe upon its mother's breast. 

That youth was Paul ; and even now the shouts 

King in my ears, with which the people caught 

Him in their arms and bore him home in triumph. 

He's been their model hero since that hour. 

There's slumbering a very iron mine 

In him of force and dauntless energy, 

From whence an Iliad of noble deeds 

And high heroic action might be wrought. 

This very night our club doth meet again. 

Paul will be there and join with us and then 

Within our influence and linked with us 

In patriotic thoughts and aims, we soon 

Will draw him into the conspiracy. 

And then we'll make him captain and his name 

And popularity will serve to win 

Troops of good men and true, unto our cause. 

Exeunt omnes. 



12 THE CONSPIRACY^ [Act I. 



Scenb III. — A large room underground or cellar, fitted up with 
seats and with the emblems and symbols of the Club. ^ Skel- 
eton in the highest seat. Present Frank and Makk. 
Others coming in. 

Mark. It is a shapely, well developed skull. 

Frank. A shapely, well developed spirit dwelt 
In it. A true proportioned character : 
With that just balance of the faculties, 
That clear cut mold of fine pure elements, 
That as a model, men could look at him, 
And studying his qualities, learn what 
True manhood was, and copying them 
Make real the ideal in themselves. 
His face was Truth's own mirror, where to look 
To see herself, how pure and fair she was. 
And wit and gladness were as natural 
To him, as sparkles to a mountain spring, 
Or ripples to a rill among the hills, 
Or music to a well tuned instrument. 
He was the founder of our Club, and when 
He died, his body he bequeathed to us, 
That we should cherish e'er his memory, 
And think of him whenever we did meet, 
E'en as in life we loved and honored him. 
And so we did preserve his skeleton, 
And voted it perpetual president. 

Mark. A capital presiding officer ! 
Most august President ! We bow to thee. 

Frank. There, so. Now let us see how he'll perform. 

He pulls a spring, when it bows and reaches out its arms <J - c, §c. 

Mark. 'Tis a most courteous and stately bow. 

Frank. That is the grip initiate ; — and that 
The squeeze of fellowship. 

Mark. A whole souled squeeze. 

Frank. Here, sir ! Lift up your merry face. So. So. 
Your skeleton's the true philosopher. 
It grins, grins ever and at everything, 
As having tried life, death, joy, pain, the grave, 



Ssesk III.] THE CONSPIRACY*. 

It finds them all but matter for a grin. 

Mark. To that philosophy we'll all attain. 

A Bell tolls. Enter Ernest. 

The bell tolls. It struck one. It is the time. 

Frank. Are they all here ? 

Mark. The number is complete.. 

Frank, (taking a seat beside the skeleton.) 
It is the hour. All please to order come. 
We'll now commence the sacred mysteries.. 
'Tis first in order to initiate 
New members. 

Ernest. There is one who waits without, 

Seeking to be admitted to our band. 

Frank. Into our presence let him now be brought. 

They lead raid in blindfolded and place him before the skeleton,^ 

Frank, (addressing Paul.) 
Would'st thou become one of our brotherhood, 
And give thy life up to the sacred work, 
To which we pledge and do devote ourselves ? 

Paul. 'Tis my desire so to devote myself. 

Frank. The aim of our Society is single ; 
And yet it has aims manifold. The first 
The great peculiar end, to which all tends 
Is to achieve our country's liberty. 
For this as means unto this end, we pledge 
Ourselves ever to closest secrecy; 
That ne'er, beyond these ancient vaulted walls, 
Shall breathe a whisper of these mystic rites. 
Then, as a brotherhood, with holiest vows 
Of friendship and affection, we do bind 
Ourselves to cherish ever, each to each, 
Pure faith and trust and gentle sympathy. 
And we are vowed to live lives pure and high, 
By no dishonor stained, or foul wrong deed, — 
But to each generous, lofty aim devote ; 
That each one may, in life and character, 
Exalt himself unto the loftiest reach 
Of his capacity. Each one should be, 
E'en as a Graecian statue, Phoebus-like 
In form and look and action ; and our lives 



14 THE CONSPIRACY. [Act I. 

We'd make as dramas for Elysium writ, 

Full of great thoughts, sweet scenes and noble acts,. 

Which they, the blest, might love oft to rehearse 

For their high pastime, in the happy vales. 

Is there a form of error in the world, 

In custom, institution, or creed old, 

'Tis ours to battle it. Truth only may we heed. 

Beauty for earth and happiness for man, 

The motive and the aim of all our toil. 

For this glad Liberty and gentle Peace 

We'll strive to win, bright visitants from Heaven, 

To make their dwelling here, with Science fair 

And Art, bright clad, child of the earth and skies ; 

Glorious Art, that yet shall gild our world, 

In all its ways, with golden pavements, and 

With beauty deck its bowers of blessedness. 

But unto tyranny, and every form 

Of slavery, we do swear unceasing war, — 

A war to end only in victory. 

Wilt thou unto these aims devote thyself 

And join with us in a perpetual league? 

Paul. Unto these lofty aims I pledge myself. 

Frank. Canst thou, as on an altar lay thy life 
And all its aspirations and fond hopes, 
A willing offering to thy fatherland ? 

Paul. Myself and all I am and all I have 
Unto my country freely do I give. 

Frank. Then, with uplifted hand and face to Heaven, 
Swear thou, that to our order thou wilt be 
A faithful brother, even unto death. 
By Him whom thou dost reverence highest, swear. 

Paul. I so do swear. Faithful till death to be. 

Frank. It is enough. Invest him with the robe. 

They put a robe and badge upon Paul. 

Thou art our brother now. Hold forth thy hand, 
To give and take the grasp of brotherhood. 

Paul holds out his hand, when the skeleton's hand is placed in if, 
and the veil is taken from his eyes. 

Paul. Is it with death I have clasped hands and vows 
Of brotherhood exchanged ? Aye, be it so. 



§cene III.] THE CONSPIRACY. 15 

Even to thee, oh Death ! I'll give myself 
And willingly, if need be, by thy side 
Lie down, to win my country's liberty. 
Aye, comrades ! brothers ! I am with you now 
And henceforth ever even unto death. 

Frank. Our noble brother ! Welcome to our arms 
And hearts ! Thou with us, now our ranks are full, 
Our number is complete. We need no more. 

They crowd round Paul, shaking hands with him and singing. 



Give to us that hand of thine ; 

With it, brother, give thy heart ; 
Holy is the tie that links us, 

Death alone the links shall part. 

Lofty is our sacred mission ; 

Hero workers we will be; 
Toiling for our Fatherland ; 

Fighting for its liberty. 

In each generous, high emprise, 

Shall our banner be unfurled, 
And our motto ever be, 

God, our country, and the world, 

Give us then thy hand, our brother I 

One in heart and aim we'll be ; 
Nobly living, bravely dying, 

Death be ours, or liberty. 

Curtain falls, 



Scene IV. — In the Palace. Guests assembled. Dr. John, Franks 
Anna, Mark, Angelo, Julian, and other Students, Lords, 
Ladies, §c, Sfc. Frank and Anna come forward. 

Frank. The Princess comes. How beautiful she is ! 

Anna. That's Paul with her. She leans upon his arm. 
Ne'er by two arms was more of beauty linked. 

Frank. To me there's more now linked unto my arm. 
Not for her crown would I exchange with him. 

Anna. No crown, nor wealth, nor rank to you I bring. 
Nothing but poor, poor humble me you'll get. 



Act I ] THE CONSPIRACY. 10 

But I will try and make it up in love. 

Frank. In getting that, your love, I will get all. 
*Tis more to me than all the world beside. 

Anna. True, love is the best wealth. How rich we'll be ! 

Eater the Princess a?id Paul, the Prince and Pauline and Lords 
and Ladies at the upper end of the room. 

Frank. She now will crown him with his victor wreath. 

Anna. 'Twas thought Count Julian would have won 
the crown. 

Frank. He strove for it and proved himself a ripe 
Keen scholar, and with eager eloquence, 
He did address us. But more grandly Paul 
Did bear himself and spake as if inspired '; 
As if some spirit through him uttered forth 
Celestial thoughts and images. 'Twas so 
The prophets must have stood, when they did speak 
Of old, as through them poured in words of fire 
The messages of Heaven. As I gazed 
At him, while to the multitude, with eye 
Afire and cheek ablaze, he spake, I thought 
Of morning, when upon the hills it comes, 
With golden locks and step of majesty, 
And calls the waking nations. With a shout 
The people hailed him and the Princess, as 
Blushing she did award the prize to him. 

Amia. Will she with her own hand bestow the crown? 

Frank. With her own hand she'll place it on his brow. 
And he will then select a queen, and they 
"Will be the monarchs of the festival. 
He'll be a favorite. Mark the prophecy. 

T.he Princess comes fonvard with the Prince and takei her seat 

upon the throne. 

Prince. May't please your Highness, the day's victor 
waits 
For his reward from your imperial hand. 

Princess. Let him approach. Where is the garland ? 

They hand her a wreath. The Prince, Frank, Mark and Jirfian lead 
Paul forward. He kneels. 

Crowns should rewards of merit rightly be 



Bcexi IV] . THE CONSPIRACY. 17 

And ever rest on really regal brows, 
Regal by virtue of the royalty 
Of brain and culture, mind and character. 
May this be of thy triumphs but the first, 
The least of many prizes won of glory. 

She crowns Paxil and leads him upon the throne. 

This is your place to-night. 'Tis yours to reign 
The monarch of our joyous festival. 
The palace your dominion is, your will 
Our duty and our pleasure to fulfill. 

Paul. Then shall my short lived reign be one of joy. 
We'll steal an evening from the blessed isles ; 
A plagiarism from Elysium. 
I do decree, that every one partake 
And help to swell the night's festivity. 
Be joy the mark and measure of my sway. 
The means of happiness to all be given. 
Had I the power, I'd make all earth as Heaven. 
But 'tis not good, for man to be alone, 
And drear if solitary e'en a throne. 
The sun divides his realm, bright king of day, 
And with the queenly moon doth share his sway. 
So will I have a queen to reign with me, 
And with her smiles light our festivity. 

Princess. Look round ! Was lovelier vision ever seen ? 
Choose whom thou wilt and she will be your queen. 

Paul. Of all the good, I'll have the very best, 
And of the beautiful the loveliest. 
The one, who shares my heart and throne, must be 
Supreme in beauty, as in majesty; 
Peerlees in face and form, stately of mien, 
Her will I choose. Please you to be my queen. 

Tlie Princess gives him her hand. 

The crown, wove for the loveliest brow, give me. 

They give him a wreath with which he crowns her. 

The queen of beauty and of goodness crown I thee. 
Ilight kingly now we'll wield our kingly powers, 
And royally show forth our royalty. 
Around the palace heap the tables high, 



18 THE CONSPIRACY. [Act I. 

And bid all come unto our festival. 

Proclaim it as the law, throughout our realm, 

That every one to every other do, 

As he would have that other do to him. 

Invite the poets here, bid them devise 

Some bright elysian game, some play of Heaven : 

We will rehearse it here, that better there 

We may act it hereafter. Life should be 

But a rehearsal of such acts and scenes, 

As we may fitly yet react in heaven. 

Anna. Have we no bards, like those of days of yore, 
With songs to sing of love and chivalry ? 

Frank. Songs are as gems, gendered in richeet souls, 
In which pure thoughts and sweet words crystalize. 
They are as flowers, with which such souls bloom forth, 
Blossoms of beauty and of melody, 
Blooming and breathing sweetness ceaselessly. 

Dr. John. Oh, for a song like those, that David sung ! 
Could he but come again and drink now of 
The water of the well of Bethlehem, 
How would he strike his harp to loftiest strains, 
Sweeter than e'en of old, and Zion yield 
To Calvary the palm of holy song ! 

Frank. A prayer ! a prayer, unto your majesties ! 

Paul. What is it ? speak ! if in our realm 'tis thine. 

Frank. 'Tis but a dance. Bid the sweet music wake, 
And lead a dance in which we all may join. 

Princess. Would'st thou to vain and idle revelry 
Have us give up these precious, golden hours ? 
What can'st thou urge for such bold rash request ? 

Frank. It is not vain and idle revelry. 
Dancing is natural to man as song ; 
And has in life its true significance, 
Its purpose just and should have its due place. 
It is akin to song and melody ; 
Of the same pure and gentle parentage. 
'Tis music acted — song in pantomime. 
Music is of the soul and ever thence 
It seeks expression. It doth breathe itself 
Forth in the voice, in concord of sweet sounds? 
And then we call it song and melody. 
In tuneful movements of the body, borne 



Scbss IV, THE CONSPIRACY. 19 

Upon the flow of inner harmony, 

It vents itself, and then 'tis dance, 

Glad, joy inspiring dance. And in the march, 

It is the soul swell, that uplifts the form, 

And to heroic measures times the step. 

Each an expression, song and dance and march 

Of this soul music. Through all things doth breathe 

This spirit of sweet harmony ; 

And every atom of the universe 

Is ever tremulous with uttering it. 

The whistling winds come dancing o'er the hills, 

And to the self same measures, as they come, 

The groves do spring and all the billows leap, 

In merry glee to join the revelry. 

The stars do swing each other, as they fly, 

And linked in shining orders, hand in hand, 

Wheeling and whirling, dance upon their way. 

And all their mighty, mystic maze — link wove 

With golden link, worlds balancing to worlds, 

Systems to systems, groups of glories bright, 

And galaxies on galaxies in ranks 

Illimitable, countless circles vast 

Circling the eternal spaces, all are but 

An infinite measure, ever wheeling there 

And timing to immortal melody. 

'Tis said, the fairies every moonlight night 

Do have their frolic dances on the green. 

And in the vales and groves of Arcady, 

While fed the flocks upon the grassy banks, 

The gentle shepherds, all the summer's day, 

To pipe and harp and merry roundelay, 

With nymphs and naiads danced the hours away. 

And doubtless too, in the celestial fields, 

Amid the hymning and the harping there, 

By the still waters in the pastures green, 

Angels and spirits blest, with raptures caught, 

And borne on waves of wondrous melodies, 

In dance inspired of grace ineffable, 

May oft show forth the excess of bliss, 

Else inexpressible, that fills their being. 

In holy exaltation David danced, 



20 THE CONSPIRACY, [Act I. 

With Israel, before the ark of God, 

Upon its way to Zion, — with glad shouts 

And hymns and peals of myriad instruments. 

And dancing 'twas, he sang, " Worship the Lord 

In the beauty of holiness". For praise 

And prayer and song and dance and every act 

Of gladness and of joy, in Him and in 

His goodness, worship is, and doth show forth 

Rightly the beauty of true holiness. 

The man, that hateth dancing, mark him well, 

He's of distorted temper. Bigotry 

Hath bound its chain about him, fettering 

The natural play and action of his spirit. 

Some chord within his soul is out of tune, 

Discordant, harsh, and gives not its true music. 

Admit him not into your councils. He 

Would in the purest fountains stir up slime, 

And pluck from out life's garden the sweet flowers, 

That God has planted there, to beautify 

And gladden it. May not the lambs skip ? May 

Not little children shout and sing and dance ? 

And shall not we join with them in their joy ? 

Princess. I deem you've won your plea. I add my voice 
To your petition. 

Paul. 'Tis granted. So be it. 

Let music pour o'er us its fullest flood 
And the glad dance float on its tide along. 
We'll close no channel, in which joy can flow, 
But rather open new ones, where we may, 
And like the old Chaldean, leading forth 
Amid his blighted plains, where Eden was, 
In channels new and founts and sunny lakes, 
The waters of the river, that at first 
Had beautified and gladdened Paradise, 
To win its primal beauty back again, 
So would we multiply the reservoirs 
And streams of joy amid life's wastes, to make 
Them bloom anew and Eden smile again. 

Music. Paul and Princess, Prince and Pauline, Frank and Anna 
and others dance. 

Julian. Jove could not bear himself more loftily. 



8«KKg IV.] THE CONSPIRACY. 21 

He walks as if he were imperial born, 

And all earth's royalty strode in his stop. 

See, how she smiles to him. Aye, it is love. 

Her soul is in each glance she turns to him. 

Ha ! Not a look she's given me this night. 

Curse ! Curse him ! But for him that crown were mine 

And with her I had led the festive dance : 

But he has stole the honors I have sought, 

For which I've toiled and would have given my soul, 

And I must slink away, thus meanly here. 

"Would I could sheathe my dagger in his heart. 

How the Prince eyes them with that yellow glare. 

Perhaps he's jealous. I will work on him. 

I'll torture him and goad him 4£ to a rage 

Of jealousy, and in his ear mean while 

I'll whisper thoughts of mischief and revenge. 

Thus with his pangs I will assuage my own. 

Enter an Officer. 

Frank. What news, sir ! from the army and the King? * 

Officer. Such, as the Roman bore tstert fled from 4vn* 
Cannae. 
The cunning foe did lay his snares for us, 
And madly did the King rush into them. 

Frank. Alas, for our brave army ! 

Officer. And alas 

For our poor country ! 

Frank. Well it were, brave sir ! 
Were we but rid of him. 'Tis our sole hope, 
And happy for the country would it be. 

Officer. In this you but give voice unto a thought, 
That's mute but universal. Treason now 
Is the best service patriots can give. 

Frank. Let's step aside, 

Where we may unobserved compare our thoughts. 

Paul and Princess come forward. 

Princess. The wreath you wear in my regard is peer, 
To any diadem in Christendom. [kind. 

Paul. Your words are gracious aad as your deeds are 
Most truly do I render back my debt 
Of gratitude and love. 

Princess. Of love ? 



22 THE CONSPIRACY. [Act I. 

Paul. Aye, love. 

It is the right, e'en of the lowliest, 
To look up to the loftiest and to love. 
As we may gaze upon the brightest star, 
And have it back with kindly beams return 
Our loving gaze. Love is as worship then. 

The Princess and Paul, go hack and dance. Mark and Julian come 
forward, Firing of cannon heard in the distance. 

Julian. What sound was that ? 

Mark. It was a cannon's roar. 

Enter an Officer. 

Officer. The King is coming ! 

Julian Ha ! the King ! 

Officer. Those guns you hear do herald his approach. 
A most disastrous battle has been fought, 
In which our troops were routed utterly. 
The King for refuge to the city flies, [found my plans. 

Julian (aside.) The King comes back ! This will con- 
But yet perhaps it is as well. There are 
More ways than one to Rome. Napoleon turned 
The Alps and then he scaled them and the Goths 
Found paths for all their multitudes. 
The King's a mad old tyrant, but he's vain 
And can be flattered. Flattery's the oil, 
To lubricate these rusty natures with, 
And make the human mechanism work, 
With all its wheels and crooks and creaky cranks, 
As smooth as running waters. I'll go forth 
At once to meet him, and I will contrive 
To get his eye on me, and then with arts 
And flatteries — for I will study well 
To serve his passions and his vanity — 
I'll steal my cunning way into his heart, 
And make of him my tool, with which to win 
Riches and power and sweeter still, revenge. 

Exit Julian. 

Shouts heard without " The King ! The King .'" 

Princess. My father coming ! I must go to him. 

Exit Princess. The shouting and firing outside increase. Great com= 
motion and confusion among the guests. The curtain falls. 



Scairs I.] THE CONSPIRACY 23 



ACT II.— SCENE I. 



In the Palace. Enter Paul and the Prixc^ss. 

Paul. To rule is God's prerogative ; and they. 

Who under Him are rulers, e'er should be 

Pre-eminent in god-like qualities ; 

In goodness, wisdom, nobleness and truth. 

The King should be the kingliest of men. [realm t 

Princess. If thou wert King how would'st thou rule tli#* 
Paul. So as most to promote, throughout my realm/ 

Beauty and blessedness. I'd think me how 

Heaven is, and I would seek to copy it 

Among my people. Mansions beautiful, 

For all the millions, midst sweet fields, should lift 

Their towers and domes majestic to the skies. 

The walls, around its cities, should be peace; 

It's armies Liberty and Loyalty ; 

And their bright armor, Justice and the Right, 

And over them the banner should be Love. 

And everywhere the people should be reared 

Up to their perfect manhood : thus alike 

Into the true divine similitude, 

In which in Eden, beautiful they stood- — 

Not the poor growth of vice and ignorance, 

But glorious in full developement ; 

Each fit to be a king, — supreme in that, 

The kingliest of kingly attributes, 

The essential quality of the true King, 

The power and habit of self government, 

And thence through self control, pure thoughts just deede f 

Sole title unto power, sole right divine, 

Fit to bear sway and rule by serving realms. 

And woman beauteous, with man should stand, 

Companion, peer, his mate, his other self; 

Each to the other supplement in that 



Act It.] THE CONSPIRACY. 24 

Sole perfect whole, true dual unity, 
In which, the liteness of their Maker, erst 
They stood, when He the universal parent, 
Mother alike as Father of all life, 
Created man in His own image, male 
And female, counterpart thus of Himself. 
And Beauty, artist of the skies, should come 
With the lost plans of Eden and replant 
Its gardens and its pleasant trees o'er earth 
And make the fields as heavenly landscapes are, 
With blossoms should it deck the bowers of love ; 
And with sweet fruits fill all the abodes of peace. 

Princess. It would indeed be glory so to reign. 

Paul. It will be thine to win that glory yet. 

Princess. I'll strive to win it. Wilt thou not assist 
With aid and counsel, when the time shall come, 
In these high aims ? 

Paul. Ah ! would I were a Hercules, 

With strength like his, to toil for thee, as thou 
Should'st bid in every generous work, to add 
Unto thy glory and thy people's good. 

Princess. As partner in the work I'd have thine aid. 
As counsellor and guide. I'll see you soon 
Again upon this theme. 

Paul. Heaven aid your grace ! 

Exit Paul. 

Princess. Oh I do I wrong to love him ? It must be 
That Heaven intends it. From the first my heart 
Sprang to him. I believe it, Heaven did send 
Him unto me in its high purposes. 
So stately and so wise, he's as I've dreamed 
Of blessed beings in the upper world. 
Give him a golden harp and he might stand, 
As one amidst the bright and choral band. 

Exit Princem. 



Scknb II.] THE CONSPIRACY. 



ACT II.— SCENE II. 

A Moonlight night. A Street in front of the Dwelling of Dr. John, 

Enter Frank. 



Frank. It is all dark. I see a glimmer there, 
As if there were a light burning within. 
I'll try a song. Perhaps she will come out. 

{lie sings.) 

Wake ! Lady ! Wake ! fair is the night. 

There's not a cloud obseures the sky ; 
And in her stately beauty bright, 

The queenly moon doth walk on high : 
Oh ! Lady ! come thou forth, that she 
An equal loveliness may see. 

Oh, come! the gentle breeze its tale 
Is whispering to the listening grove, 

And the enamored nightingale 
Is pouring forth its lay of love. 

Then come with me and tones more sweet r 

A tale more true thine ears shall greet. 



The light doth move. There's some one stirring there. 
Another verse I'll try and then she'll come. 



We'll wander in the moonlight fair, 
The stars shall witness from above 

While in thine ear shall breathe the prayer, 
The prayer that's only breathed by love. 

To win the answer sweet from thee, 

The love that's more than life to me. 



A noise ! She comes ! A brighter starlight now 
Will beam from out her eyes upon the night. 
Ha ! Who is this ? Her father ! Jupiter 



I!6 THE CONSPIRACY. pen XT. 

For Hebe ! He doth see me not. I'll stand 
Behind this tree and wait until he's gone. 

Enter Dr. John. 

[a; dream?. 
Dr. John. There's no one here. It must have beeBL 
'Twas that Greek chorus running in my head. 
I fell asleep repeating it. It still 
Wrought in my brain and did suggest the dream, 
Methought a choir, with flowers all garlanded, 
Of those, who fought at Salamis, did come 
With Sophocles for leader and did sing, 
With harp and dance, peans of victory. 
Such as I trust our youth will sing ere long. 
The music flowed so sweetly, I would fain 
Dream ever so, sleeping and waking too. 
I think I can recall it. It began 
Loudly, with a full burst and then it sank 
To a soft strain. So. There. No. It is gone.. 
I almost had it. May not that be it ? 

Singing heard at a distance. 

It is some reveller. 'Tis not the voice, 

And all unlike the strange sweet melody. 

It must have been all dream. Yet it doth seem 

I heard it still, after I waked, although 

Unto a softer sweeter strain it sank, 

Just as, methinks, Apollo, when he'd turn 

From Pallas unto Venus, with his lyre, 

Would softlier sing. Well, well, I'll to my beJ 

And con the chorus o'er again. Perhaps 

'Twill come to me once more in some sweet dream. 

Exit Dr. John; 
Frank. Greek chorus ! Peans of victory ! 
Ha, Ha. Dear good old Plato ! My poor song 
Has waked in his great brain strains grand 
And visions beautiful, as whispers soft, 
Will in cathedrals and in galleries vast, 
Oft swell and roll in loud reverberations. 
She's coming now ! 

Enter Anna from, the hous$. 

Dear Anna ! Darling ! Thanks I 



Sqnri II. THE CONSPIRACY". 27 

Anna. Dear, dearest Frank ! 

Frank. Forgive me for the sleep 

I have disturbed and all the pleasant dreams, 
I've put to flight. Not mine, but yours the fault, 
In that you've made me love and long to come 
And be thus ever with you, by your side. 

Anna. More welcome is thy coming unto me, 
'Than sweetest sleep, or brightest dream could be. 

Frank. As sweet to meet, so hard it is to part. 
Oh ! tell me, when shall be the happy time 
When there shall be no parting ; when all mine 
Thou'It be, I thine, each other's evermore, 
Till death shall part us. When shall be that time ? 

Anna. When thou hast triumphed in thy great attempt 
To win our country's freed cm, it shall be. 
Then I'll be thine, thine only, wholly thine. 
Then too, I'll prondly claim thee for -mine own, 
My husband, lover and my hero too. 
But until then our country's must thou be. 
She needs thee now and all thy energies. 
'Twere treason to divert a thought from her. 
When she is free, how proud I'll be of her, 
And of thee too, her brave deliverer. 
But said'st thou not, the club would meet to night 
And that you must be there, to act with them 'I 

Frank. It does this very night. I'm on my way. 
Matters of deep import we'll then decide. 
And I am hastening to be 'there in time 
But could as>©t help but stop as I passed by. [man, 

Anna. Ah ! would that Heaven had made me too a 
"That I wight go with you to share in all 
Your noble thoughts and plans for liberty, 
And our -dear country. Gladly would I go, 
To toil and win or suffer by your side. 

Frank, Nay, dearest ! Not to be a man. We then 
Had never loved. Thou canst not wish for that. 
Not for what's best in the wide universe, 
Would I be otherwise than as I am, 
Thus loving and thus loved by thee. No, not 
With Michael would I exchange, to take 
His radiant nature, with his place before 
The seraphim and lose thy love and mine 



28 THE CONSPIRACY, [Act II. 

For thee. 

Anna. True, Frank ! I do not, could not wish, 
To be aught otherwise, than as I am 
To thee, except to be nearer and dearer. 
Not less but more would I be unto thee. 
I more would share thy plans, thy thoughts, thy life, 
Thy purposes of good, thy noble deeds, 
Thy toils and perils in our country's cause. 
Why may not woman strive and work and live 
Aye, die too for her country ? Must the paths 
Of duty, peril and of honor e'er 
Be trod by man alone ? There'll be no sex 
In Heaven ! May not we too nobly live 
Our lives and leave bright records here, that we 
Like you may look back proudly to them there ? 
I'd e'er be woman, dear ! and be thy love, 
But woman worthy of thy love, I'd be ; 
A heroine for a hero ; by thy side 
In toil and peril, as in love and ease, 
To walk with thee in every path of life, 
Partner in all thy labors, as thy joys. [be. 

Frank. Such partner hast thou been. Such shah thou 
From thee first came to roe these noble thoughts. 
The inspiration was my love for thee, 
And thy love my ambition and reward, 
Thou dost and thou shalt share in all my thoughts, 
Co-worker, with me in each generous aim. 
Woman is ever man's true help and guide, 
Her heart to him the best interpreter 
Of duty and of honor. Side by side 
In work and love should they e'er walk through life. 
But time cloth fly. I must now go. I'll come 
To-morrow and advise with you, of what 
Is done and what should next be done, to aid 
In our great aims for liberty. I'll call 
For Paul upon my way and will appeal 
To him to join in our conspiracy. 
Talk to your father. Shape his mind aright. 
In gentle words breathe noble sentiments. 
And with your smiles scatter great thoughts around^ 
That they like coals of fire, dropped in the souls 
Of men, may kindle into high resolves 



Scene II.] THE CONSPIRACY. 29 

And burst forth into deeds of nobleness. 
The welfare of her country and the world 
Is unto woman of as deep concern, 
As it is unto man, and 'tis to her, 
E'en as to him a duty and a right, 
To labor for the general good, — for all 
That tends to elevate our common race, 
And beautify the earth, our common home. 

Exeunt. 



ACT II.— SCENE III. 
Same night. Before Paul's house. 

£<A^VeA-> Palest a^t^al^ <?*^4c^<^ft. 

Paul. Look at that star, yon lone one there, and think 
How infinite the reach of its pale beam, 
Traveling to us from its bright sphere so far. 
So is it with our life and influence! 
The truth we do, or utter goeth forth, 
A beam of light and loseth not its way, 
Amidst remotest centuries. 

Frank. Aye ! even so. 

Paul. The tree bears not it sweet fruits for itself ; 
But 'tis that we may pluck and eat of it. 
And so with golden fruitage of good deeds 
And gentle influence should our lives abound, 
To make the world more happy. 

Frank. 'Tis most true. 

Paul. They the true artists are, who, as their days 
Are given them, do mould them into lives 
Of beauty ; and he greatest artist is, 
Who makes his life the one most beautiful. 
To live life rightly is the true high art, 
The highest art, and to aspire in it 
Is better, than to copy Raphaels. 
Greater into a hero or a God 

To mould one's self, than carve one out of marble. 
Even Athos, hewn into his image, yet 
Were poor to that which Alexander was. 
They only truly live, who, with high aims 
And noble deeds, do make their lives 



-3D THE CONSPIRACY. [Act IL 

'Thus real, earnest, true and beautiful. [ours be. 

Frank. Aye, such should all life be. Such should 
'Tis with such thoughts and aims I come to you. 
There is a noble work, an enterprise, 
The grandest sir ! in which man can engage. 
Than which earth has no better, loftier one, 
Before us now. It doth appeal to us. 
It craves the aid, it doth demand the aid 
Of all good men and brave, and doth require 
The highest attributes of mind and soul. 
'Tell me, dost thou not love thy country ? sir ! 

Paul. My country ? If I know my heart I do. 

Frank. I know thou dost and therefore do I come,, 
Trusting to you. Hast thou not marked, alas ! 
The ruin that doth overspread the land ? 
Has not the general cry of misery 
Pierced in thy ears and harrowed up thy soul ? 
Dost thou not see, that this once happy land, 
By Heaven made so -lovely, by man cursed^ 
Is prey to outrage, crime and misery ? 

Paul. Alas ! it is too true. 

Frank. Why is it so ? 

Must it thus ever be ? 

Paul. 'Tis clear 'tis not 

Heaven's purpose towards us, for there's given us 
All elements and means of happiness. 
If men would use and order them aright. 

Frank. It is that tyranny doth crush the land. 
The King is but a vile and hoary tyrant. 
I'st not so ? 

Paul. Alas ! it is too true. 

Ah ! why does Heaven so lavish power on them, 
The coarse the vulgar souled, who cannot see 
Its true and noble uses ? 

Frank. Strange is it ? 

Ha, sir ! a muddle is it ? muddle all ! 
Tet, sir ! there's order in the way, the stars 
Are set in Heaven, though they seem strown there 
So wildly. Aye ! ajfd music they do make, 
-Could we but hear it, as they there do roll 
In their eternal course. Heaven is all right. 
'Twill do its part, if we do ours. Let us 



Scene III.] THE CONSPIRACY". 33 

Arouse and do- our duty ; all will then 

Come right and we will gain our liberty 

And make our country free and happy jet. [King I 

Paul. What would'st thou do ? Would'st thou resist the- 

Frank. Aye, would I so, — resist his tyranny. 
Shall we yield tamely, ever to these wrongs, 
And with base acquiescence sanction them ? 
Heaven forbid ! Submission unto wrong 
Is treason to the right. True loyalty 
Is e'er a rebel against tyranny. 
The despot is his country's bitterest foe, 
And with him the true patriot can hold 
No terms but those of strife and enmity. 
With tongue, and pen, nnd sword and dagger too, 
'Tis his to battle against tyranny, 
And toil, and plot and fight for liberty. 

Paul. Alas I What can we do ? What force have we 
To battle with the tyrant's brutal troops ? 

Frank. At least sir, we can do our best, 
And serve our country with what force we have. 
The right is mightier than armies are. 
Let's do our duty, and in doing that, 
We will achieve the truest, best success ; 
For duty done is ever victory. 
What though 'tis diffieult.and perilous ! 
Werethere no mountains we would never climb; 
And&fonger as a bride the brave man loves ; 
For there's in her a beauty and a charm 
To fa^inate and win souls of high strain ; 
And honor and renown are born of her, 
From each encounter some fair child of fame. 
Let's do our duty, and as you just taught, 
Live truly in high aims and noble deeds, 
And make our lives thus great and beautiful, 
Aye, aye, sir ! The life beautiful ! Ha ! ha I 
The hero and the god ! I have you there ; 
By your own words I have you. He, the Paul 
Of old, whose name you bear, not only taught 
The good fight, but he fought it too, 
And by that name, and its great memories, 
His cross, his crown, and your own noble words T 
I do appeal to you to join with us 



Act II. | THE CONSPIRACY. 32 

In this great work, to win our liberty 
And make our dear, beloved country free. 

Paul. For our dear country and for liberty ! 
You need make no appeal to me for them. 
I am, and ever was, and will be all 
For our poor country and sweet liberty. 
Show me but where the path of duty lies, 
In which to serve them truly, and I'll tread 
It gladly, fearlessly, though perils, toils 
And agonies assail at every step. 
And ueath itself, confront me at the end. 
Here is my hand ; I'm with you, sir, in this ; 
For life and death, I'm yours in this just work ; 
But tell me of your plans and purposes, 
The steps by which you seek to reach these ends, 
And realize these glorious results. 

Frank-. A company of students, all your friends, 
Have joined in secret, sworn conspiracy, 
Vowed to achieve our country's liberty. 
We are thy comrades all, and love thee, sir ! 
And wish to have you with us at our head ; 
Our chief to lead us in the ways of glory. 
Wilt thou not join us in our sacred vows ? 

Paul. Aye, any place in the great work I'll take. 
But tell me of your plans, the special means, 
By which you seek to realize your aims. 

Frank. Come with me now. We meet this very night, 
In the old ruined abbey, in the church, 
A wild, lone place, off in the royal chase, 
Just at the forest's edge, where none will come. 
The peasants tell that spirits rise at night 
And flit amid the trees and through the tombs 
And broken vaults, and wander till the morn. 
There secretly and safely we can meet. 
Our brother Angelo will meet with us. 
He is a spirit medium, as you know, 
A rare, pure soul ; one of those wondrous men 
Who have appeared in these, our later days, 
Successors to the seers of olden times. 
Of nature delicate, yet powerful, 
He seems to have some strange affinity, 
Some power o'er spirits, that they're drawn to him r 



ScsftJi HI.] THE CONSPIRACT. 33 

And through him will communicate with men, 
And speak of matters of the other world, 
Things future and invisible. He'll come 
And sit in council with us, and through him 
We will receive celestial utterances. 
And we can ask the spirits of the dead, 
Of the old heroes, who in ages past 
Have fought for liberty, to come to us 
With help and counsel in our glorious work. 
Come with me. 'Tis at one o'clock we meet ; 
And see ! the broad-faced moon, now at its full, 
And swinging in the vault right opposite 
The sun, is passing the meridian, 
Marking midnight to us, as Phoebus doth 
Midday to the antipodes. Come, sir ! 
Mark now is waiting with the President. 
Let's haste. We'll help him carry it along ; 
And I'll explain to you as Ave do go, 
More fully all our plans and purposes. 1 

Paul, I'll go with you and see what I shall see. 

Frank. The sky is changing. There's a storm at hand, 
I never hear that whistle in the wind, 
That sad, peculiar, melancholy moan, 
But that I know a storm is on the wing. 

Exeunt. 



ACT II.— SCENE IV. 

Same Night — A park on the edge of a forest. Enter Frank, Paul and 
Mark, with the skeleton enveloped in a mantle. 

Frank. 'Tis heavier than I thought. Let's stop and rest. 
There. Stand it so. 

Paul. He's like a reveller, 

All masked and mantled for a masquerade. 
How far is't to the abbey ? 

Frank. Yonder, there 

Above the forest rises the old tower. 
How spectral -like it stands against the sky ! 

Mark. You're right, sir ! Csesarism's bad enough, 
Even with Caesar's glory gilding it ; 



34 THE CONSPIRACY. [Act II. 

But with the Neros and the little Caesars, 
It is a pure, unmitigated curse. 

Frank. With nothing to redeem it. 

Paul. A sham too,— 

Poor Caesar's mantle, as in it he fell, 
E'en at the base of Pompey's statua, 
And which should have been buried with him then, 
But which usurpers steal to ape in it 
His vanity and crimes and that — without 
His genius and his generous, grander traits. 

Frank. It is the same old fable of the ass 
In the lion's skin, made true and realized 
In history. 

Mark. With a refreshing change 
And variation of the character 
Of brute, exhibiting in that old skin ; 
Fox, wolf, bear, hog and calf, and now and then, 
In its capacity for shedding blood, 
A specimen of genuine leonine. [quick 

Paul. How strange it seems. If men were wise, how 
Would fall the Caesars and the Juggernauts. 

Frank. Have you heard of the history I've writ ? 

Mark. What you ? No. History of what ? 

Frank. I have it here. 

'Tis this. 'Twill do to read by moonlight. 

He reads. 

An ass found a dead lion's skin. 
With wring and twist he crept therein, 
He shook the mane f he reared the tail , 
While all the beasts around did quail. 
At length a bear did cross his way ; 
At him the ass a roar did bray. 
The bear, no bastard bear was he, 
Rushed at the ass right bearishly, 
From off him stripped the imperial skin, 
And straightway in his place crept in. 

Paul. Ha, ha ! What name give you your history? 
Frank. The sequel to " Theirs' empire." 
Paul Aye ! 'Tis apt. 

The sequel to yours, I should like to see. 



Scswi: IV. THE CONSPIRACY. 35 

Frank. May hap yon may : — wait a decade or so. 

Mark. Come sir ! Now prophesy. How long think you 
This old imperial skin will last, to serve 
These bears and asses thus to fool men with ? 

Frank. Well, 'tis a tough old hide. It has endured 
Some nineteen centuries. And sir ! the blood 
That they, who've aped the imperial brute in it, 
Have caused to flow, is as a river is 
Unto a rivulet, to what has served 
To slake the thirst of all the genuine brutes 
That through these centuries have raged o'er earth. 
A tough old hide, but cracked and rotten now. 
'Tis in its twentieth century, but 'twill 
Not last it out. If you do, you will see 
The end of it. That is my prophesy. 
Hist ! Who comes there ? 

Mark. 'Tis Julian. Mark his stealthy gait ! 

Frank, He has a certain look, that answers pat 
To my idea of Judas. 

Paul. It is said 

That he has won the favor of the king. 

Frank. By flattery he wins the tyrant's ear. 

Mark. He's shrewd and cunning. 

Frank. Aye, mere cunning, sir ! 
And cunning is but wisdom's counterfeit ; 
A poor and shallow one. He's hollow, false, 
And lacks the true, substantial qualities. 

Paul. Falsehood is ever shallow, hollow, null. 
Truth only is substantial, solid, sure. 
Dishonesty is ever a mistake. 
The lack of honesty is lack of sense, 
Of due perception of the scope of things, 
Of their relations and true harmonies, 
And just adjustment of act to the fact. 
The rascal ever is a fool, at least 
To the extent of his rascality. 
And hence I rather pity him than blame, 
And in the treatment of the criminal, 
I ever with the prison would combine 
The school and hospital. 

Frank. Hist ! Here he comes. 

The clouds sweep o'er the moon ! He'll see us not. 



36 THE CONSPIRACY, [Act II. 

A cloud passes over the moon. Enter Julian, not seeing them. 

[right and wrong.] 
Julian. 'Tis wrong Ha ! Tut ! Mere names these, 
Virtue ! Pooh ! 'Tis mere talk, — a name devised, — 
An artificial sentimental sweet, 
To sugar o'er tame deeds to weakly souls. 
That's right to me, that rightly serves my will, 
And that is wrong, that thwarts me ; — that's my creed : 
The true one for a resolute brave soul. 
Of universal being, 'tis the law, 
Each atom to itself all else to draw, 
Itself the centre of the universe. 

The cloud passes from the moon. 

Ha ! who is here ? 

Frank. Good evening, sir ! [is this 

Julian. Ha ! Frank ! and Mark ! and Paul ! and who 
That stands with you, so stiff and statuelike, 
Mantled and masked in such strange mystery ? 

Frank. Nay, sir ! You see he doth disguise himself. 
Wisdom pries not in what concerns it not : 
Of its own proper food it heaps its store ; 
And like a thrifty husbandman it digs 
In its own field. 

Julian. 'Tis guilt and cowardice, 

That mask themselves and lurk round in the dark. 

Frank. Ha, Ha ! Is that the view you take of it ? 
Well, sir ! this is a face that need not mask 
Its beauty from the moon. Nor fear nor shame 
Can start a blush in it. Look ! Is it not 
An open and an honest countenance ? 

Ht draws the mantle from the skeleton. 

Julian, [starting back.) Ha ! Horrors ! How it star- 
tled me, so hideous. 

Mark. Ha, Ha ! I thought you had more nerve in you. 

Julian. Who would not start to have thus sprung on him 
Such image of grim death grinning at him ? 

Frank. 'Tis but the counterpart of your own self. 
We're all but skeletons with skin o'er them, 
That like this mantle will some day drop off 
And nothing leave of us but bones, mere bones. 



SeKKK IV.] THE CONSPIRACY. 37 

You might as well thus tremble "when you look 
Into your glass. Look sharply there, you'll see 
This same queer compilation of white bones, 
And that same ghastly grin will mock at you. 
Tut, sir ! you're frightened merely at yourself. 
But we must haste. Come Mark ! Let us march on. 
Good night, sir ! 

Exeunt Frank, Mark and Paid with skeleton. 

Julian. Good evening, sirs ! 

Curse them. They laugh and jeer at me. Well let 
Them have their jest. I'll have mine too ere long, 
And echo back their laughter at them yet. 
But what means this ? There is some mystery here. 
There's something up, when skeletons do walk. 
Mystery's the cloak, that mischief ever wears 
To do its dark work in. I'll hie with this 
Unto the King and set the spies on them. 
Already I'm his favorite. I'd stake 
My life against a butterfly's, that I 
Could bend him unto any whim I'd choose, 
So that it be some vain and wicked thing. 
He's doubtless an old tyrant, a mere beast, 
Drunken and brutish, and his tyranny 
Rests fearfully upon the realm. These wars 
He madly wages and his cruelties 
Do make him hated, and the citizens 
Are ripe for insurrection, and do nurse 
Imaginings and dreams of liberty. 
E'en now their leaders do in council meet, 
And I have pledged myself to meet with them ; 
And would do so, but suddenly the King 
Thus fancies me, and through him best I see 
My way unto my own peculiar aims. 
Hence I'll at once reveal to him their plots. 
'Twill be a new and double treachery. 
But doubly 'twill secure my hold on him : 
He, who connives at and accepts a crime, 
As guilty is as he, who does the deed. 
As partner doth he thus commit himself 
Both in the crime and to the criminal. 
The briber doth as truly sell himself, 



m THE CONSPIRACY. [Act II. 

His honor, manhood and true dignity, 

As he who seeks and takes the filthy fee. 

In buying me, to serve his tyranny, 

The King too sells himself to me, to serve 

My aims both of ambition and revenge. 

There's strife and trouble brewing in the state, 

But 'tis midst tempests the true sailor's shown ; 

And in these rough wild times, the bold and shrewd 

Win their best prizes. I have heard it said 

That where hell boils the hottest, there the waves 

Were molten gold. So here, the roughest times 

Throw richest treasures up for those, who know 

And dare to seize them. I will venture it 

That in the general pillage and turmoil, 

I will secure my full share of the spoil. 

Exit. 



ACT II.— SCENE V. 

Same Night — A l.irge Gothic Church, partly in ruins, dimly lighted in, 
front, the rear beyond in darkness. The Club assembled. The 
Skeleton in the chair. Present: Paul, Frank, Angelo, Mark, 
Ernest and other Students. 

[hour, 
Frank. Brothers ! the hour's at hand, the wished for 

Such as Columbia saw at Bunker Hill, 

And Greece beheld of old at Marathon, 

When for our country we may draw our swords 

And fearless strike for her and liberty. 

Our prayer is answered. The glad hour is near. 

Soon from its scabbard every blade must leap, 

Ne'er to return till victory replace 

It back, with dints of glory all emblazed. 

Then comrades ! let us seize the golden chance 

With hearts exulting and a gallant blow 

Strike for our country and sweet liberty. 

Let us now solemnly renew our vows, 

That in the coming crisis we will prove, 

In all our duty to the fatherland, 

Most firm and faithful. With uplifted hands, 

Let us most solemnly swear this to Heaven. 

All. We swear it. We swear it. We swear it. 



Scehb V.J THE CONSPIRACY. St' 

Paul. Let's sing ere we do part. Some good old hymn. 

Frank. What shall it be ? 

Mark. The Marsellaise ! 

The strain most eloquent of earth and time. [score, 

Ernest. Nay, " Scots wha hae" let's sing, the brave old 
That rang at Bannockburn. 

Paul. Old Hundred ! Luther's grand old air, let's sing*. 

Several voices. Old Hundred ! Old Hundred I 

Frank. Old Hundred let it be. All join in it. 
Sing ye, as David and as Luther did, 
And as they would, if they were with us now. 

They sing the doxology to Old Hundred. 

Mark. Now for the spirits — 'Tis the hour for them* 
Frank. Ere we do part we'll sit awhile to learn. 
What revelations from the spirit world 
Will be imparted to us. Our good friend, 
Through whom these mystic voices speak to us, 
Is delicate of structure and his frame 
So sensitive and finely strung, it yields 
To every airy influence and thrills 
Accordantly, if but a spirit comes 
And waves his wing, or breathes a whisper near. 
And as the future to the spirit's ken 
Is as the present visible and clear 
We may some intimation haply get 
Of what fate has in store for us, in these 
Most perilous times, or else perchance we'll hear 
Some word of heavenly counsel, that may teach 
Us how to serve our country. All take seats. 

Enter a Sentry. 

Sentry. A storm is gathering. Ye had best make haste, 
The roaring of the forest, where it comes, 
Is as the voice of ocean in a storm. 
'Twill soon be here. 'Twill be a fearful night. 

Frank. If there's to be a tempest, it is like 
The spirits will be out in fuller force. 
'Tis said, they love the wild winds and the storm, 
And joy to mingle with the elements, 
When they in mad career sweep o'er the earth. 

Angela. Around the table we will all take seats, 



Act II.] THE CONSPIRACY. - 40 

They seat themselves around the table. 

Paul. These spirit revelations of our day 
Do make the old-time faiths seem probable 
That taught of airy shapes and forms of light, 
The fair divinities of air and sea. 
And nymphs that haunted mountain, grove and stream. 

Angela. They show, that round about us in the air, 
Spirits are hovering ever near to us, 
Familiar loving friends, and ministers 
To do us service, fleet as sunbeams are. 
They hear our voices, bear our messages 
Unto our loved ones in the world unseen, 
Spy out the secret thoughts of men, and from 
The pages of the future read to us. 
Let us with pure intent and honest faith 
Invoke their gentle presence, and they'll come 
And o'er us shed celestial influence. 
And with that spirit vision, that doth pierce 
Through time and space, will show to us the way, 
Where victory waits us with sweet liberty. 
Let us in patience and in humble faith, 
Accept the signs and words vouchsafed to us. 
Upon the table all around join hands. 

They place their hands one on the other 1 around the table. 

There is a world within this outer world,. 

A realm unseen amidst this visible one, 

Of essence all too subtle for the grasp 

Of our coarse senses. Its bright habitants, 

Etherial beings, disembodied souls, 

Hovering in robes of airy textures, wove 

Of paradisal hues and gleams of heaven, 

Are all pure spirit. They have wings and limbs 

Like thought, agile to pass from star to star 

When they go out in space, on errands bent 

Of love or duty, or when off they range 

The illimitable regions, to explore 

New realms unseen before of worlds and wonders, 

Oft in excursions out they go, far off 

Into the deep, — amidst the Stardust fields, 

Or, where, beyond in the abyss, light droops 



Scuss Y.] THE CGNSHRACT. 41 

Its wearied wing amid the vast extent, 

Lost in the trackless, shoreless infinite, 

To make discoveries, of what God there 

Has reared of beautiful, in the drear void, 

And what of life He's breathed to dwell in it 

And make it the abode of love and joy. 

'Tis their delight thus to go forth and roam 

Amidst His worlds, to study out His laws, 

And solve the mysteries of His providence. 

For 'tis the business of the spirit life, 

In which with sweet employ they fill the years 

Of the eternal ages, thus to search 

His works and find out all His ways, and more 

And more to know, the more they learn of Him, 

That all his ways are good, and all his works 

But Infinite Love wrought out by Infinite Power. 

Mark. Hark ! Hush ! What sound is that ? 

Ernest. It was a cry. 

Paul. Out in the forest! 

Mark. No, 'twas in the tower. 

Ernest. To me it seemed, as if it 'twere from beneath* 

Frank. Aye, there the monks are buried in the vaults. 
That yonder is the statue of a knight, 
Who fought in Palestine and then turned monk. 
His tomb is there beneath the monument. 
Near to him lies an old inquisitor ; 
And then a s£int of such dread sanctity, 
That at his word the fiends would baffled flee. 

Mark. The peasants say that strange unearthly sounds 
Do linger round these ruins in the night; 
That spirits in the breeze do sigh and moan, 
And often shrieks are heard upon the winds 
And yells and howlings most unnatural. 

Ernest. Ha ! There's a sound. 

Frank. It is a rap. 

Ernest. There, there. Now hear them, how distinct. 

Angelo. Some spirit comes. 

Mark. I trust it is a good one. 
An evil spirit in this fearful place, 
And at this hour might do us injury. 

Frank. Now hear it rap. It rattles quite a tune. 
A trill of spirit-land. # I hope 'twill speak. 



42 THE CONSPIRACY. [Act it. 

Angelo. Is there a spirit here would speak to us ? 
Frank. Three raps it makes, answer affirmative. 
Lo ! see ! the table moves ! It rises up ! 

The table rises and moves about in the air. 

Ernest. This is most strange ! 

Mark. Most wonderful ! How can it be ? 

Paul. By signs and wonders Heaven in ages past 
Was wont to intimate its will to men. 

Frank. 'Tis like the air is full of spirits round, 
That look on us, though we may not on them, 
And hence this wondrous seeming miracle. 

Angelo. There's more within our vision, than is m 
Our vision. Spaces infinite stretch out 
Within our very reach and ages glide 
In every moment. In these depths of time 
And space, wonders exist we dream not of : 
Armies, that Xerxes could not number, throng 
Around unseen, and compass us about 
With glittering legions and great deeds are wrought* 
That would make fields renowned, and written out 
Fill libraries of history. 

Paul. It settles back again unto the floor, 
How gently ! There, it upwards moves again. 
It seems as if with spirit 'twere instinct, 
Or else that spirits round did lift it up. [world 

Frank. 'Tis thought by some, that this our visible* 
Is mere illusion, an ideal show, 
Some action of etherial attributes, 
Of the same essence, as is thought or spirit. 
That spirit the true substance is, more real 
Than what we guess of and do matter call ; 
As life not death is the reality. 
Atoms of force not matter people space"; 
Monads of soul, minims of melody, 
Living and loving agents, from whose play 
And workings into ceaseless harmonies, 
These glories visible and those unseen, 
All unimaginably glorious, 
Is this our wondrous beauteous universe ;' 
One infinite eternal symphony. 

Ernest. The table now rests quiet in its plaqg?. 



Sceke V. THE CONSPIRACY. 43 



The Skeleton 'moves, 

[move. 

Frank. Look ! there ! See there ! The skeleton doth 
Haply 'tis our departed brother. He 
Perchance doth stir these bones, knowing they're his, 
As when in life he walked in them. I'll speak 
To it. Art thou our brother's spirit ? 

Mark. There were three raps, distinct ones. It is he. 
I hope he'll answer and converse with us. 

Paul. See Angelo, — his eyes are fixed — he seems 
As in a trance. What may his motions mean? 
He acts as he were writing. 

Frank. Haply thus 

The spirit would communicate with us. 
Let's give him paper, and see what he'll do. 

He places paper before Angelo and a pencil in his hand. Angelo 
writes and Frank reads. 

I am your brother's spirit. Tt^is still 

My privilege to meet with jou and share 

Your hopes and counsels. When high thoughts 

Are whispered to your souls, then know that I 

Am hovering near to you. I now am here 

To rouse you up to noble purposes. 

There come with me three mighty souls, that wrought 

Of old for liberty and who would still 

In spirit aid the cause they loved in life. 

Hark ye unto their words and make 

Their deeds and lives the pattern of your own. 

Ernest. This gives us blest assurance, that our friends 
Departed hover yet in spirit near 
To us, and that we too may after death 
Still linger in these dear accustomed scenes, 
And mingle though unseen with those we love. 

Frank. Mark Angelo! His eyes are closed, and look ! 
A strange far light seems breaking o'er his face ; 
A glorified expression, as it were ; 
As if a gleam from Heaven did shine o'er it, 
Or as some soul beatified had come, 
Or spirit blest and waked in him the thoughts 
And raptures of the invisible world. 



44 THE CONSPIRACY, [Act II. 

His aspect is as if inspired and rapt. 

Mark. Hush ! He will speak to us, The spirit now 
Struggles in him laboring for utterance. 

Angela. I sang erewhile of war in Heaven ; of Sin 
And Evil vanquished, and their rebel hosts 
Hurled headlong hideous into the abyss. 
Sublimest theme too, for celestial song; 
Oft chosen by those other bards, minstrels 
Who fought upon the fields, of which they sing, 
Mighty alike with sword or harp. Crowned now 
In silent shades and seats embowered they sit, 
Deep pondering the eternal chronicles, 
And of them building heavenly Iliads. 
Oft held in stillest rapture, Heaven doth hush, 
With all its multitudes, entranced to hear 
Those sweet seraphic voices chanting deeds, 
By sword of angel and arch-angel wrought, 
Or arm of the Omnipotent. The war 
Is but transferred, to be fought out on earth. 
The same bright armies,/^bwers of light who fought 
Those fields in Heaven, with the old ensigns still, 
And armor from celestial armories, 
And decked with Honor's true insignia, 
The scars of battles fought for God and truth, 
Legions that faithful ever stood, still stand 
In arms embattled 'gainst the Powers of Hell, 
To drive them forth from earth as erst from Heaven. 
With them are leagued all who love God and good, 
The true and wise of earth, the spirits pure, 
The just and generous ones, who are for Peace 
And Liberty and God's eternal truth. 
The contest on the earth is supplement 
And counterpart to that renowned in Heaven, 
And deeds are done heroic, that will vie 
With aught wrought by the sword of Michael 
And be fit themes for loftiest minstrelsy. 

Ernest. He sinks exhausted back into his seat. 
The spirit or mysterious energy, 
Whate'er it be, is passing from him now. [earth's 

Frank. 'Twas Milton's spirit. He, who sang the 
Sublimest strain. His was the loftiest soul 
Of England's noblest age. He in his life 



8eE5K V. THE CONSPIRACY. 45 

Did ever speak and act for liberty. 

Paul. The song he sang he still can sing in Heaven. 

Noise of wind and storm heard without. 

[now. 
Ernest. Hush ! hear the tempest ! It has reached us 
How fierce it strikes and dashes 'gainst the walls. 

Frank. The old tower reels, but braces up again. 
'Twill stand as it has stood a thousand storms. 
See ! He doth rise. 'Tis like he'll speak again. 

Angelo rises. 

Mark. Another spirit now doth enter him ; 
He's all unconscious. How his form dilates, 
As if some mighty soul expanded it ! 
With what a calm and stately majesty, 
He looks yet sees us not. There's that in him 
In look and attitude, like what we note, 
In statues that we see of Washington, 
Who it is said was of a lofty mien, 
An awe compelling presence. 

Paul. Can it be 

His spirit ? Art thou he, who was in life 
The mightiest champion of liberty, 
And dost thou still in spirit sympathize 
With those, who in thy steps would carry on 
The work thou didst begin so gloriously ? 
There, see ! his lips do stir. He'll speak to us. 
A word from him were as a voice from Heaven. 

Angelo. The loftiest path of glory is where treads 
The patriot fighting for liberty, — 
To make his country happy, free and great. 
Such is the path, in which 'tis yours to tread. 
Heaven marks it out for you ; your country calls, 
Duty commands, and Honor becks you on. 
The spirits of old heroes, who have fought 
For freedom hover with me o'er you now, 
And bid you emulate their noble deeds. 
Numbers innumerable, shining hosts, 
With banners waving that have waved o'er scenes 
Renowned — in shadowy troops, as erst they marched 
Upon the battle fields of liberty, — 



<S THE CONSPIRACY. {Act II. 

They come from hillside old, and storied plain, 
And holy haunted vale, where fallen they 
Have lain sleeping in glory. Be ye true. 
Victory will yet be yours and proud renown. 
The millions of the free will bless your names. 
Armies invisible will fight for you ; 
And Heaven send swift legions to your aid. 

Paul. He takes his seat. Can it be so ? Is this 
Ilksion, or the trick of vile imposture ? 
Or was't the soul of Washington, that spake 
In him ? I would believe it was. 'Twould give 
Assurance that our cause is blessed of Heaven, 
And that success will surely follow it. 
Lo ! see ! Is that a vision ? Angels armed ! 
The heavenly armies now are marching here. 

A fash of lightning lightens the church and figures of Angels, §c. 
are seen on the walls. 

Frank. 'Tis Michael and his angels in pursuit 
•Of the rebellious hosts, that routed fly 
Smote by avenging thunders. I've oft come 
And gazed at the grand figures on the walls, 
Though marred by time and ruin, beauteous still. 
It was the lightning flashing through the church, 
That made them visible. There, 'tis again. 

Lightning and thunder, §c. 

That leading angel seemed to lift his sword 

And strike with it as the flash fell on him. 

Mark. How deep the thunder, as it rolls along ! 
Ernest. The rattling of His chariot through the skiest 
Frank. The old church trembles to its very base, 

There's not been such a Storm, since that wild night, 

The cross on the cathedral spire fell down. 

The priests then said, it was the devils work. 

There, lo ! The glorious vision comes again. 

Lightning and thunder, #c. 

Paul. Horses and chariots of fire of old 
Did fill the mountains round the man of God. 
The same God liveth with His armies still; 
And hosts with chariots flaming and bright arms 



Scene V.] THE CONSPIRACY. 43 

Of heavenliest temper,, proved in ceaseless fights 
With hell's fierce legions, are encamped around 
On every height, to aid His champions 
And with sure reinforcement give them help 
In every righteous cause. 

Mark. Hist ! He prepares to speak to us again^ 
He rises ! There's frown upon his brow 
This is a spirit of a different sort. 

Frank. There is a haughty grandeur in his mien r 
Like to a statued Roman. See ! He moves 
His arm, as he would wrap a robe around him, 
And as he trod the seven hilled city still. 
He grasps that dagger, as he knew its use. 

AngeJo. 'Tis right to fight a tyrant any way, 
With sword or dagger, or in peace or war, 
In open strife, or dark conspiracy. 
The tyrant and usurper have no rights. 
They trample upon every law and right. 
With them there's none, for them there should be none, 
There was a dagger once, that freed the world 
From an usurper ; the earth's loftiest one ; 
The foremost man of all the world, my friend 
And lover : but he wronged my country and 
I slew him. Take this weapon : — rightly used, 
It will work out thy country's liberty. 
Be bold and use it as a patriot should ) 
As Brutus would, were he alive and this 
His country ; the old Rome that he so loved.. 

He hands the dagger to Paul. 

Fra7ik. It was the noble Brutus, he who slew 
Csesar Imperator. 'Twere well had we 
A spirit of his mettle living now. 

Mark. He pointed out the shortest, surest way, 
For our deliverance. Would some strong arm 
Ensheath the dagger in the tyrant's heart, 
The work at once were done and we were free. 

Frank. By handing so the weapon unto Paul r 
He seemed to mark him out, as the right one 
To do the work, and strike the glorious blow. 
Bee him ! How on the dagger he doth gaze. 
And then on empty air and all enrapt ! 



Act II.] ' THE CONSPIRACY. 48 

Paul. Why did he give this weapon unto me? 
That I should use it on the King, as he 
Of old did upon Cessar ? I kill him ! 
I an assassin ! No, oh ! no, not I. 
I'll draw my sword and wield it in fair fight, 
And in all just and honorable ways 
I'll give my life up to my country. But 
A murderer I may not be. Not that ! 
Heaven ! point me not that way ; but any path 
Of peril or of sacrifice mark out, 
To drain my life out drop by drop for her, 
Or toil 'midst pain and utmost agonies, 
And I will tread it gladly, fearlessly. 
But I assassin may not, cannot be. [the steel 

Ernest. No, friends ! Not such our course. Not with 
Of the assassin, but the soldier's blade, 
Must our great work be wrought. In open war 
We will encounter him, and boldly drag 
The tyrant from his throne. Such is the course 
Doubtless that Heaven intends us to pursue. 

Paul. Then wherefore dost it send to us such signs 
Such dread and solemn messages ? Why is't 
These tables move, and the dumb elements, 
With eloquent action, thus appeal to us, 
And spirits of the dead, who in their graves, 
Have slept for centuries, now thus come forth 
And intimate to us these fearful deeds ? 
Is it thy meaning Heaven ? 

Lightning and thunder, fyc. 

Is that thy answer ! 

Mark. In the old days of signs and prodigies, 
Thunder was deemed to be Heaven's voice to earth. 

Ernest. A crashing peal ! 'tis a most fearful night. 
The powers of the air are out in arms, 
With Heaven's heaviest artillery, 
And every one with lightnings in his grasp. 
A fiercer tempest never shook the hills. 
'Twill test our bravery to encounter it. 

A signal heard. 

Frank. It is the signal. There is danger near. 



Sc»ke V.] THE CONSPIRACY, 49 

The sentry gives the alarm. We must away. 

Enter the Sentinel. 

[trayed ! 

Sentinel. Away ! Quick for your lives ! We are be- 
A troop of soldiers now are marching here. 

Ernest. I see in this the serpent traitor's trail — 
Sir Julian we must thank and pay for this. 

Frank. Out with the lights. Take up the skeleton, 
And follow me. I know a secret way ; 
A subterranean passage though the vaults, 
And out into the forest neath the walls. 
Thence we'll escape. The tempest is our friend. 
Heaven for our safety thus doth interpose. 
Amidst its thunders and wild roaring winds 
Our steps will be unheard, and its thick veil 
Will cover us and hide our swift retreat. 

Exeunt omnei. 



ACT in.— SCENE r. 

In the City. Enter Padl alone. 

Paul. Ah ! wherefore will that dagger haunt my mind,, 
And never leave me ? Still 'tis there — ''tis there. 
And the old Roman's words ring in my ears, 
And startle fearful echoes in my soul. 
Aye, more, my country seems to plead to me. 
How blessed it would be, were he to die ! 
Then gentle Peace would reign, where now this fiend 
Of blood doth ravage. Ho ! thou kingly Death ! 
Thou, who art cursed so oft by gentlest souls, 
For laying low the lovely and the good, 
Thou now could'st win for thee unnumbered thanks 
From all the hearts of this wide realm, if thou 
Would'st on this tyrant do thy blessed work. 
Would that the spirit of old Rome walked still. 
The noblest citizen of all should rise 
And arm himself and slay him and there's not 
An honest heart in all the world but would 
Exult in it and bless the righteous blow. 
Shall I then kill him ? Shall I strike that blow ?' 



50 THE CONSPIRACY. [Act llf. 

It were to do my country a great good. 

It were to take one vile pernicious life, 

And by it save a thousand nobler ones. 

Aye ! shall I kill him ? I ! oh ! no. I kill ? 

Whose dreams have ever been of light and love 

And beauty ? Shall I stain my soul with blood ? 

Away from me, thou hideous fearful thought ! 

Enter Mark, Erxest and Angelo, with Students and Citizens armed 

Hark. The people rise in insurrection. Hear 
The cannon's roar ! The city's in revolt ! 
And foremost in the tumult, shouting march 
The students, singing hymns to liberty. 
Come Paul ! join with us, if you freedom love. 

Exeunt all but PauL 

Paul. How little is our life in our own hands 
To shape it as we wish. A drama 'tis, 
Writ by another, we the players merely. 
My heart's fond aspiration e'er has been, 
To live a life pure, beautiful, like Christ's, 
Devoted to some high and noble aim, 
Some mission of bright love and gentle Peace. 
But destiny doth will it otherwise. 
And hence the path, that nearest it, I'll take y 
The path trodden by Washington. 
I'll fight for freedom ; for my country I 
Will work, that I may give her liberty. 
Yet rather were not my true course the one 
That Brutus chose ? 'Twere more effectual sure, 
And rightly viewed perhaps as glorious. 

Enter Frank and Anna. 

[on? 

Frank. Come, Paul ! come with ns ! Gird your armor 
The city has revolted from the King. 
He's thrown our good old Master Dr. John 
Into the castle dungeon, heaped with chains, 
Thence to the scaffold to be dragged and hung. 
This outrage stirs the people to revolt. 
Now is the time to drag the tyrant down. 

Paul. Alas ! our dear old teacher ? What's his crime I 



SSgexs I. THE CONSPIRACY. 51 

Anna. The crime of which the wolves accuse the lambs; 
Which fiends against the seraphs ever charge, 
And guilt 'gainst innocence. Goodness is e'er 
An accusation and offense to sin, 
And wickedness may truly see in it 
Its bitterest and sternest enemy. 
'This is my father's sole yet fatal crime. 

Paul. Upon the scaffold to be hung you say ? 

Frank. Yes, by to-morrow morning's earliest hour. 
At sunrise on the castle's highest tower. , 

Paul. Can there be nothing done for ^efflr? /voouc^ 

Frank. There will. 

"We'll storm the castle ere that hour, 
And o'er our bodies, heaped against the walls, 
'Climb to the rescue up the battlements. 
Hear you those bells ? Mark you these cries around ? 
It is the city rising in revolt. 

Anna. The people roused and arming for the fight; 
And with them at their head the students march. 

Frank. Yes, they do swear with solemn oaths to yield 
Never unto the tyrant's sway again. 
Thou'dst have exulted to have seen the crowd, 
The high hearts of the city, bare their heads 
And all together lift their hands to Heaven, 
And swear they would be free. It was a sight, 
To make old earth laugh in its rocky ribs. 
Then at the name of Liberty, a shout 
Went up to Heaven and forth they marched with cries 
And hymns of triumph through the exultant streets. 

Anna. And foremost, at their head the students 
marched — 
Thy gallant comrades, they with whom so oft 
Lessons of glory thou hast learned, and pored 
O'er deeds for freedom wrought by heroes old. 

Paul. The King ! How does he act ? 

Frank. Fierce as a butcher. He 

Is leaguing with the neighboring tyrants rouncL 
.E'en now a hostile army marching threats 
'The city. The scared despots from all sides 
Will rush to trample out the holy fire 
Of liberty. 



62 THE COXSPIRACr, [A«i 111. 



Enter a Citizen. 

Citizen. Alas ! Alas ! Ill news 

1 bring. The citizens have fled. A troop 
Of students fighting, who refused to fly, 
With Angelo, your comrade, at their head 
Were taken prisoners. The King enraged 
With fearful blasphemies swears they shall die. 

Anna. Can you stand calmly cold and hear all this ? 

Frank. A leader we do need. Wilt thou refuse 
To be our captain and to lead us in 
The ways of glory ? 

Paul Cold ! calmly ! Oh, No ! 

Could I by laying down my life for her 
Save my poor country, gladly would I die. [ 8a J- 

Anna. Die ! no. 'Tis live and fight, that you should 
'Tis not your death but life, true earnest life 
And action bold and prompt in her behalf, 
That now your country needs and asks of you. [yield 

Frank. What would'st thou have us do ? Must we e'er 
In soulless tame submission, to these wrongs, 
These deep accumulated, crushing wrongs, 
That tyranny may please to heap on us. 
May right ne'er arm itself 'gainst brutal wrong? 
May never sweet, sweet liberty be ours ? 
And wilt thou bid us rear our children slaves ? 

Paul. I bid thee ? No, I say not so. Not mine 
To counsel peace with tyranny. I scorn 
The man that can rest quiet in a land 
Trampled by an oppressor. Never I 
Will bid the sons of freedom pause, 
In their march onward, while of earth a foot 
Is trodden by a despot. No ! while floats 
A rag of the black flag of Slavery, 
Let never Liberty ensheath her sword, 
But ever be sleepless and armed for battle. 
Doubt me not ! I'm all thine and Liberty's. 

Frank. There spake our noble brother. Arm thyself, 
Thou art our captain. Lead us where thou wilt 
We'll falter not, though death bestride the path. 



tcBMi I. THE CONSFIRACT. 



Enter d Citizen.. 

[rallied. 

Citizen. Good news ! Good news ! The citizens have 
With barricades they hold the troops at bay. 
And bid defiance to them. 

Frank. Huzza ! huzza ! 

Let's haste to them ! Unto the barricades ! 
There take our stand for victory or death. 
Come, Paul ? Wilt thou not go with us ? [elsewhere. 

Paul. Would that I could — but Heaven now points 
Go you at once unto the barricades. 
Withstand the tyrant's troops until the morn. 
Before the dawning I will come to you. 
Till then there's work for me elsewhere to do ; 
By which haply to serve our country well ; 
A duty that Heaven doth impose on me ; 
A path that I must seek and tread alone. 
Go now. I'll follow soon. Before the morn 
I'll join you at the barricades and march 
With you to storm the Castle at your head. 

Frank. So be it then. We'll to the barricades, 
And hold them with our lives until you come. 

Exeunt all but Paul. 

Paul. It is the way — the way. The King should die. 
My comrades plead to me to save their lives, 
My country calls, Justice demands the blow. 
His death alone will serve. While he doth live, 
There is no hope of peace. Nothing but blood 
And tyranny and riot through the realm. 
But were he dead, sweet Peace would smile again, 
And hope and calm security and joy 
Like sudden sunshine lighten up the land. 
Shall I then kill him ? That's the point, my soul ! 
To stain with blood thy purity and all 
Thy dreams of beauty to dispel, by that 
Vision of horror, which once seen, will haunt 
Thee ever ! That's the question, oh my soul ! 
That Heaven puts to thee, and thou must answer it. 
Heaven ! meanest thou that I should do this deed ? 
Why else dost thou suggest these thoughts and make 
That which has ever been so horrible 



M THE CONSPIRACY. ■ [Act IIL 

And criminal now seem a solemn duty ! 

I'll go first to the palace, to the King, 

And with the gentle Princess, who I know 

Will join with me, I'll strive and plead with him. 

If that avail not, then — such other way, 

As Heaven shall in its justice point me to. 

Exit. 



ACT III.— SCENE II. 
In the Palace. Enter the Prince and Paulinb. 

Pauline. How many of the students have been taken? 

Prince. A score of them ; all brave and gallant youtfe. 
'The King declares he'll hang them every one. 

Pauline. Alas! and can there nought be done for them? 
Can there be found no inlet to his soul ? 
No spot that we may touch of human mould ? 
Take me to him. I'll plead and beg for them. 
Perhaps sweet pity's fountain, in some vein, 
Deep in his stony nature, hidden sleeps; 
If we can pierce the rock, it may gush forth. 

Prince. 'Twill need some power like that of Moses'rod, 
To smite the rock in him effectually. 
But what can will be done. The Princess now, 
And Paul with her, is pleading for their lives. 

Pauline. Heaven help them plead and touch his heart. 

Prince. Amen. 

There comes his tool and flatterer. Let's go. 

Exeunt and enter Julian. 



Julian. The Princess interceding with the King 
For mercy to these rebels ! and with her 
Her saintly lover ! Ha, Ha ! It is strange, 
That flower so sweet should spring from rock so rude. 
Not beauty, sir ! nor intellectual gifts, 
Nor love, nor prayer Avill stir his brutal soul. 
Besides I'll ply him with the drink he loves, 
That he relent not, till they're out the way. 
And then I'll plot to send Paul after them, 
And then the insurrection in the state 
Once quelled by force, and the King's sway confirmed, 



Scene II'.}. THE eONSPlllACF. &e 

Why I, "who by mj arts and flattery 

Do rule the King, through him will rule the realm. 

They come. 

Enter the Ki> t g, Puixcess, Paul, The Pixincs, Pauline, Officers and? 

others. 

Princess. Wilt thou not spare them for my sake ? 

King. No, ask me not. I've sworn that they shall die=- 

Princess. Father ! my birthday on the morrow comes. 
A princely gift then thou hast promised me. 
Give me their lives. I'll prize the present more, 
Than if you'd heap before me gems and gold — 
All rarest pearls, rubies and diamonds bright, 
The spoil of Orient treasuries, and all, 
That e'er were gathered in earth's hollow halls, 
Grottoes and caverns vast, where Genii dwelt 
In the primeval ages, and with them 
Illumed their stately domes and decked their thrones, 
Or if the wealth of California's streams 
And the far isles of the Pacific seas 
You'd give to me the dowry of thy love. [dews. 

-Julian. Seraphs have bathed her lips with heavenly 
All puissant is Beauty with her tears. 
Tears are the drops to wear the rock away. 

King. Not all that wealth, were it thrice ten times told! 
And piled here a ransom at my feet, 
Would buy their lives or save them from my wrath. 

Paid. May't please you, sire! Grant me to speak a word,, 
'Tis good to have power, glorious, Godlike power, 
That we may use it like God, for good ends. 
'Tis glorious for the imperial sun 
To sweep through space upon its shining way, 
With its bright train of glad attending worlds ; 
And oh ! 'tis good for us that the grand orb 
Doth sway the earth and in its blessed path 
Amidst the starry fields lead her careering ; 
For ever with its beams come light and life 
And beauty to our else poor dreary world ; 
And all the myriad golden rays it sends 
Are busy ministers of good to us, 
Angels of loving sweet ben/ficence. 1/ 
And so should they be, to whom power is given, 



Act II.] THE CONSPIRACY 56 

Mighty as is the orb, but with tliat might 
Tempered by love and mercy, e'en as God, 
Who gives that power, holds His omnipotence 
Subservient to His goodness and His love. 

Julian. Hist ! hist ! He's preaching to the King, 

King. Ha ! how ? 

Paul. Forgiveness is the noble soul's revenge, 
The sweet redress the generous spirit craves. 
It is the justice that the just exact, 
E'en as they'd have that justice dealt to them. 
'Tis ever wisdom's truest policy. 
'Tis sweeter, as 'tis nobler than revenge ; 
It plants a keener sting than vengeance can. 
And works a more effectual punishment. 
It vanquishes the guilt it punishes, 
Subduing it to love and gratitude. 
Revenge doth but repeat the very wrong. 
It would redress. Its spirit is of hell. 
Malignant, cruel, blind with hate, it most 
Upon itself doth wreak itself, like hell, 
Its own chief victim. But sweet mercy is 
The highest, heavenliest attribute of Heaven, 
And in the fullness of its own rich peace, 
It doth return of its abounding joy, 
Kindness and good even for injury. 
How blessed — 

Julian. Jehu and Jehoshaphat ! 
He'd made a grand old prophet. 'Twas just so 
They used to come and chide the old Jew Kings. 

King. Ha ! Silence ! Where are kept the prisoners ? 

Officer. They wait in chains your majesty's commands. 

King. Take them at once to execution. Hang 
Them all forthwith. Thou hast thy answer. Hast 
Thou more to say ? 

Paul. No more — to say. [not send 

Princess. Oh ! give them time for prayer. You would 
Them unprepared to their eternal doom. 
Give them a space to fit their souls by prayer 
And ministry of holy men for death. 
Oh ! for my sake, thy daughter's, grant them this. 

King. Till midnight then I'll give them. At that hour 
Let the great bell be tolled. Then have them strung 



SckssII .] THE CONSPIRACY. 57 

Around the outer battlements, that there 
Traitors may see the doom that waits for them. 
Now for a brave old revel. Give me wine. 

They pour out wine to him. 

I love to see bright wine, rich ruby wine, 
The purple blood of the red grape — but more 
The redder richer gore, that traitors pour. 

Pauline. If there is blood in him, it must be black. 

Prince. 'Twere just, if he were by hyenas torn, 
Or trod upon by elephants and crushed 
Oat of the form of the humanity 
He doth disgrace. 

Eater an Officer. 

King. How now ? sir, speak ! 

Thy smiling doth bespeak for us good news, 
As a bright dawn doth herald a fair day. 

Officer. Most happy news. The citizens do yield 
And flee behind the barricades. The troops 
Are gathering swift and hem them round. As swoop 
The eagles from their flight upon their prey 
We'll charge on them and take them prisoners. 

King, {giving him a ring.) 
Take this, sir ! for your tidings. Now haste back, 
Hedge them around that none escape. We'll drain 
Each drop of rebel blood from out the realm. 
To clear a land of reptiles 'tis the way, 
Each viper, soon as found to crush and slay. 
Now for a right brave revelry to-night. 
Pleasure shall speed the moments in their flight. 

Exeunt all but Paul. 

Paul. Heavenly Justice ! What are thy thunders for, 
That they do roll so vainly through the skies 
And blast him not ? Monster insatiate ! 
Right wert thou, Brutus ! Wert thou living now 
There'd be a deed more noble to be done, 
Even than that brave blow, which gave thee fame. 
There should be in each land some officer, 
Some righteous man, whose office it should be 
To slay these tyrants, who abusing power, 
God's attribute, do use it thus like devils. 
I'll rush in now and stab him where he stands. 



58 THE CONSPIRACY. [Act III. 

Ha ! shade of Brutus ! comest thou again 
With thy red dagger, smiling as in scorn 
That thus irresolute and weak I halt, 
Scared by these scruples, fears and timid doubts, 
Shadows perchance, unreal as thou art ? 

Enter Princess and Pauline. 

Pauline. Alone here ? brother ! What is't aileth thee? 
There's pain and anguish written on thy face ! 
What is it that thou gazest so upon ? 
There's nought that I can see but the bare wall. 
See'st thou some vision in the empty air ? 

Paul. Dost thou see nothing ? Then there nothing is. 
Pain ! no ! Sweet sister ! Wrong ! It were not wrong. 
There'd be no guilt in it. 'Twere right and noble. 
Pain ! no. I have no pain. 'Tis duty calls. [dering, 

Pauline. Thou heed'st us not. Thy thoughts are wan- 
And fixed thy gaze. What is it ? Speak to us. 

Paul. It should be done, yet oh ! not I, not I ! 
Princess. It should be done ! What is it should be done 
Not thou ! 'Tis duty calls ! What dost thou mean ? 
Some fearful thought absorbs thy mind. Speak, sir, 
Thy Princess and thy sister bid thee speak. 

Paul. Harmonia child of Mars ! Aye, even so. 
From fiercest discord sweetest harmony. 
Thy mother was some angel lost on earth, 
Some daughter of the skies, loved by thy sire, 
And hence hast thou thy peerless attributes. 

Princess. My father — 

Paul. Thine, thy father — that is it. 

Princess. Forgive him. He is old and passionate. 
These troubles in the state have maddened him. 
He will relent — A brighter day will dawn, 
And in the hope of it let us await, 
And from the future borrow happy thoughts, 
To cheer the gloomy present. Let us hope. 

Exeunt Princess and Pauline. 

Paul. It's right ? Have I the right ? Admit, he is 
Unfit to live and by his crimes deserves 
To die, can I take rightfully his life ? 
It is a question. And yet, why is not 
That right in man, which wrought by God, in Him 



Scixn II. THE CONSPIRACY. 59 

Were good and blessed ? So the aim be pure, 

And the result be good, the deed the same, 

What matters it by whom or how 'tis done ? 

This life of ours, this strength, even our wills 

Are all from Him. In us they e'er should be 

And are as still incorporate in Him. 

Our thoughts and acts are not our own, but His, 

In whom we live and move and have our being. 

Hence we should ever, at each turn of life, 

Imagine to ourselves, what thought or deed 

Would become Him and fearless then we should 

Do it exultingly. And there's no act 

However dread it be, but it, so done, 

Is good in us and Godlike, even as if 

'Twere wrought by His right hand. Would it not then 

Be a most blessed deed, if God would take 

This tyrant from the earth ? Then why not too 

If I should do it ? Or, rather He through me, 

I, even as the dagger in my hand, 

So I in His merely an instrument ? 

I'll with this question go once more to Heaven ; 

And if unto my mind, looking to God, 

It still seems right, I'll take it at His will, 

His working in my soul and pause no more. 

He leans his face against a pillar. Enter Julian. 

Julian. Ha ! Paul ! Weeping is he or praying? I 
Could now dispatch him. No, 'tis not the time. 
I will not mar my plans by hastning them. Exit Julian. 

Paul. 'Tis so. 'Tis right. So says the voice within. 
And to each man the voice of his own soul 
Is God's own special oracle. 
'Twere cowardice in me if I should pause, 
Scared by this dim vague phantom, we call "wrong," 
While thus my country calls and pleads to me. 
And in my thought, to serve my country, it 
Were nobler on my soul to take the guilt, 
If guilt it be and bear its penalty, 
Aye, peril if need be body and soul, 
And sacrifice for country, earth and Heaven, 
Than shrink from fear of it. My country ! thine 
The blessing — mine the guilt and punishment. [Exit. 



60 THE CONSPIRACY [Act IV. 



ACT IV.— SCENE I. 
Night — In the Palace. Enter Paul and Pauline 

[speak ? 

Pauline. She leaned upon your arm while you did 

Paul. She did. 

Pauline. And smiled ? 

Paul. Yes as a seraph might. 

Pauline. Were you alone with her ? 

Paul. Yes, quite alone. 

Pauline. What was it that she answered unto you ? 

Paul. 'Twas less in words than looks, that she replied. 
It was her glance and that sweet smile, that played 
Upon her lips. 

Pauline. Was that all ? 

Paul. All. 

Pauline. Oh ! Fie. 

You should have urged your suit to her, have clasped 
Her hand and bent your knee and from your heart 
With the full fervor of true earnest love 
Have plead and prayed to her till she did speak 
And answer back to you with love for love. 

Paul. Nay, nay, my sister ! 

Pauline. Yes, yes, my brother ! Never tell me nay. 

Paul. You do forget her rank. A Princess she. 
The daughter of a hundred sceptered kings. 

Pauline. A Princess ! 'True, but she is woman too. 
In love she's but a girl, a simple girl. 
Is royalty, think you all void of soul ? 
May Princes have no hearts for love and joy ? 
Love ! 'Tis the highest honor Kings can win, 
And the best homage we can pay to them. 
Love laughs at titles and the toys of rank. 
Nature doth rank us as we stand compared, 
In stature and in quality of soul. 
Yonr heart will mate you with their royalest 
Aye, you, my brother ! more do honor her 
By the rich offering of your pure high love 
Than she could honor you, were she to place 
The crowns of all her sires upon your brow. 



Bcekb I.] THE CONSPIRACY. 61 

And if, as I believe she love, 'twill be 

Her joy, her pride to heap upon you all 

Her princely powers and high imperial honors. 

But I must haste. Good night. May slumbers sweet 

And dreams of love be thine. , 

Exit PvUWQQQ. /^A^c^c^c^£' 

Paul. Heaven guard my sister! 

Can it be so ? It is so. She is right, 
Now that I think her words and actions o'er. 
'Tis strange I saw it not before. Her love ! 
Oh ! could I clasp her in my arms, 'twould be 
Of Heaven more, than Heaven itself could be. 
Aye, what could mean those words she spake to me ? 
How would I rule the realm, if I were King. 
What should that mean ? And then — would I assist 
With aid and counsel when the time should come. 
Aye, when the time should come. 'Tis so. Aid thee, 
Sweet Princess ? Yes, the treasures of my youth, 
All that I am and all I hope to be, 
The energies of the immortal mind, 
The might of love, these passions and high thoughts, 
All YjA. devote unto thy service. Yet. No. 
Dreaming of love with murder in my heart ! 
To love the daughter and yet slay the sire ! 
Away, ye dreams ! No, not for me is love, 
Or hope, or sweet delights. Stern duty bids ; 
Heaven has commissioned me ; my country calls ; 
It is my mission and I must not fail. 

Enter the Princess and The Prince. 

[come 

Vrince. I like not these fierce cries and shouts, that 
From out the city. There's new trouble there. 
I will go forth to learn what it may be. 

Exit the Prince. 

Princess. Why is it thou art thoughful ? Lo ! look up ! 
Diana there is out, with all her troop, 
Her starry nymphs, hunting in the fields of Heaven. 
Is it not beautiful ? 

Paul. Most beautiful ! 

Princess. This loveliness, that robes the night, 
Suggests to me a thousand happy thoughts. 



62 THE CONSPIRACY. [Act IV, 

Tell me. of all created things that are, 
"Which most would'st thou delight to be ? 

Paul. Of all created things "? 

Princess. Yes, let it be 

Something whose nature we could share with thee. 

Paul. Then thou shalt guess it. Thus I will find out 
What thou would'st wish to be and that I'll wish. 
. Princess. It is a star thou'dst be ; a Pleiad there — 
One of those walking yonder. Would'st thou not ? 
I'd fain be one of them — dost thou not think 
The stars are conscious of their lofty life ? 

Paul. Aye, do I so. I would not, could not deem 
Those glancing orbs mere dead and senseless things. 
To me the universe is all alive, 
Instinct with soul and sense and thought and joy ; 
And Nature doth delight in all her works, 
Even with a joy infinite as her might. 
And these her wondrous movements thrill her frame, 
As when great thoughts move o'er the soul of man. 
Yet I'd not be a star. There's that to do 
Upon the earth, I would not leave undone, 
Not for the brightest of yon golden seats. 

Princess. Is it a cherub then, that thou would'st be,, 
Or seraph with thy home in Heaven, and thence 
Oft times to go out, visiting amidst 
Yon shining worlds, a messenger of light 
On holy errands ? Thou could'st then come back 
Unto thy native earth, to do thy works 
Of love and mercy. 

Vaul. Nay, not yet, not yet, 

There's a time coming, when I hope to be 
Such seraph, haply then to dwell near thee, 
In some sweet nook of Heaven, but not yet. 

Princess. Then tell : what it is thou would'st wish, 

Vaul. It is 

That I could be awhile omnipotent, 
With power to execute on earth, what I 
Would love to do. There'd be a change here then. 
For I have thoughts of beauty in my soul, 
That wrought out would make earth all glorious, 
As if with jasper walls and gates all pearl 
And golden pavements built it cities were. 



Scene I.] THE CONSPIRACY. 63 

The elements of glory all are here; 

Richest material for the new Heaven. 

The marbles waiting lie beneath the hills, 

Yet crop out looking round for architects. 

How easy, if men would, 'twould be, to rear 

Them into palaces. Ah ! were men wise, 

This world might be all beauty, life all joy. 

The hills with burnished domes would gleam afar ; 

The valleys all would happy valleys be, 

And all the isles be islands of the blest. 

Vrincess, I wish thou could'st have such omnipotence. 

Enter the Prince and an Officer of the Palace. 

Vrince. The insurrection in the city spreads. ■ 
They seem to march this way. I fear their plan 
Is to attack the palace and thus aim 
The blow they strike at the most vital part. 

Officer. With fiercer blow we'll meet and parry it — 
Our guns will give them greeting as they come. 
Enter a Servant. 

Servant. The mob is marching hither and their cry 
Is " To the Palace" — "Death unto the King." [troops. 

Vrincess. Heaven help us, should they overpower the 

Servant. Or should the soldiers fraternize with them, 
And join the work of pillage and of blood. 

Vrincess. Alas! Is there such danger ?, Then indeed 
To Heaven must we look. [To Vaul) You will not leave us 
The people love you. They will heed your voice, 
Better than armor or of brass or steel 
Is the bright panoply that Love puts on. 
I choose you as my knight, to watch for me 
And guard me through the perils of this night. 

VauL Unto thy safety will I give my life. 

Officer. The shouting seems to cease and die away. 

Vrincess. Perhaps the tumult now will quiet down 
And all be well. Keep ye good watch. Good-night. 

Exit Vrincess. 

Vrince. Where is the King ? 

Officer. Dead in a drunken sleep, 

They brought him senseless from the night's debauch. 
The trump of doom could not awaken him. 
He lies in yonder chamber. That's the door. 



Act IV.] THE CONSPIRACY. 64 

"Paul. Ha ! Bid'st thou mean to point the way to me ? 

Prince. Hark ! Hear those cries again ? Let us go out 
And learn what they do mean. Paul ! you remain, 
We'll soon return and make report and then 
Council of war together we will hold. 
The gentle Princess doth rely on you. 

Paul. So, Heaven is working it. 

Officer. Heaven working it ? 

'Tis Hell you mean. It must be thence that comes 
The inspiration, that impels these fiends. 
Hark, hear them yell ! A legion at the least 
Is busy now at some devil's work, devised 
For them in hell. Watch you till we return. 
The Princess' room is next unto the King's. 
Keep you near there. She may require your aid. 
The King's not like to wake or trouble you. 

Paul. 'Tis very likely that he will sleep well. 

IZzeunt all but Paul. 
'Tis clearly Heaven's appointment. It is so. 
It is a duty. It is more than right. 
It is a duty. It will be an act, 
In the esteem of thoughtful just souled men, 
Noble and righteous. Good men will approve 
Of it and history, if it Wgkt true, QatAZJ^C 
Will put it down among its purest deeds. 
In killing him 'twill be but one life lost, 
And that a criminal's, by every crime 
Polluted and by every law condemned. 
While by it lives unnumbered will be saved, 
Lives which may beautiful and happy be. 
Thus too tlie Princess I can best protect, 
For were he dead, I could at once go forth 
Unto the people and proclaim his death ; 
It would disarm their rage and turn their hearts 
Again to her in love and loyalty. 
And all at once through the now mourning land 
There would be peace and sweet security. 
My dagger, come ! Thou'lt yet a relic be. 
I'll pause no more, but to the deed at once. 

'Exit Paul and enter Julian. 

[ger thus, 

Julian. What may that mean ? He grasped his dag- 



SCENE II.] THE CONSPIRACY. 65 

Sternly as if he'd strike with it. I've seen 

Him oft of late buried in reverie ; 

Then he would start — and gaze into the air, 

Then clench his hand and mutter to himself, 

And drop and shake his head, all lost in thought. 

As if he meditated some dread deed, 

Some fearful purpose. I will dog his steps, 

And play the spy on him. When saints do arm, 

Then rogues and devils well may take alarm. 

Exit. 



ACT IV.— SCENE II. 

Night. — A street in the city barricaded— Ernest, Students and Citizens 
armed, some on guard, others sleeping, $c, 8;c. 

Citizen. What cries are these that come upon the breeze ? 

Ernest. It is some tumult in the city. But 
That we must stay to man the barricade, 
I would go forth to learn what it may be. 

Citizen. From different points do come the sounds, 
Shouting and roar of guns, and with the breeze, 
Billows of music swell upon the ear. 

Ernest. 'Tis a new rising of the citizens. 
They've waited for the night to arm themselves ; 
And now they march with shouts and songs in bands 
To join the insurrection. 

Citizen. Look there, to the east ! 

How red the day-break lightens up the sky. 

Ernest. Nay. Midnight has not struck. It is the glare 
Of conflagration. The city is a fire. 
See how those flames curl round yon eastern tower, 
As if hell from beneath were bursting forth. 
They seem to lick the skies with their forked tongues. 
The night doth linger long. Would it were day. 
These fearful scenes will fright the morn away. 

Shouts and singing heard in the distance. 

[here 
Citizen. Hark ! They are jubilant. They're marching 

With cries and hymns. 

Ernest. How hollow sounds the earth 

Beneath their measured tread. There's thunder in 



66 THE CONSPIRACY. [ACT iV. 

The tramping of the people, when they arm 
Themselves and onward march for liberty. 
Let's wake our sleeping comrades, and as they 
Do come, give them a fitting weleome. Friends ! 
Awake ! Halloo ! Rouse up ! awake ! Halloo ! 
The citizens in troops of thousands come. 
A myriad swords leap from their sheaths to-night 
To strike for freedom. Wake ! halloo ! halloo ! 

Citizen. It is some solemn death chant that they sing. 
How grandly rolls the chorus on the air 
In the still night. They bring their slain with them. 

Enter Mark with a troop of students, ,j-c. bearing a dead body. 

3Iark. Comrades ! fall in the ranks and march with us ! 
The city everywhere doth rise and pour 
Its eager thousands to our aid. Onward ! 
Unto the palace we will march t'avenge 
Our murdered friend and win the liberty 
For which he died. All fall into the ranks ! 
Unto the palace, onward ! on, march, on ' 

Ernest. Who is it that has fallen, whose remains 
You thus do bear with you, with such display 
Of triumph and of woe ? 

Mark. Alas ! 'Tis Frank. 

The brightest spirit of us all has flown. 

Ernest. What, Frank ! our noble, genial comrade gone. 
Keen wit, warm heart, true friend and generous soul. 
Dead is lie ? dead ! alas ! How did he fall ? 
The brightest Pleiad now indeed has fled. 

Mark. His death was worthy of him. At our head 
Upon the barricade he stood and back 
Repelled the rushing soldiers, and in turn 
Did chase them fleeing, and with cheers 
Urged the pursuit. Even as he fell, he waved 
His sword above him, shouting " victory." 
His last words, as we raised him, were, "I'm free." 
He smiled, and 'twas the same bright smile we've seen 
So oft, and then his spirit sprang away, 
To join the freed ones in the immortal realms. 

Ernest. I'll join them too with him ere morn and day 
Shall dawn on me in Heaven, if we win not 



SCENE II. THE CONSPIRACY. 67 

Our liberty. Aye, liberty or death ! 

That is our word — our battle cry. 

Onward, march on. Freedom and victory ! 

Mark. We must be on the march, Let all fall in. 
The tyrant in his stronghold we will seek. 
The wild beast in his lair, and from his den 
Drag out the monster. To the palace, ho ! 
Take up the body. Bear it at our head. 
That is his fitting place, to lead us still 
Until the victory. On to the palace ! 
We'll sing as we do march. On ! Forward, march ! 

Exeunt, all singing. 



Hark ! from the skies, a voice that cries, 
There is no nobler death or prize, 
Than his who for his country dies, 
Fighting for liberty. 

Carry him proudly to his grave ; 
Around him still the true, the brave; 
The flag he loved above him wave, 
The banner of the free. 

Waste not for him or sigh or tear, 
Above him lift the exultant cheer, 
For his the fate to hero dear, 
Martyr of liberty. 

Like his may be our destiny, 
Like him to live, like him to die, 
Like his, the graves where we shall lie, 
And his, our eulogy. 



ACT IV.— SCENE III. 
In the King's Bed Chamber. TJie King in his bed. Enter Paul. 

Paul. The way is clear ; yet I would rather creep 
The vast earth round, than walk this little space 
Unto this deed. Where is my dngger ? 



68 THE CONSPIRACY [ACT IV. 

He draws a Dagger and with it a manuscript from his besom. 

I've writ my reasons here for what I do, 

That should they kill me, as most like they will, 

They'll see I acted in it righteously. 

And chiefly that the Princess thus may know 

Why I did slay her sire and that she may 

Be more induced by it to rule the realm 

In love and righteousness and gentle peace. 

And haply too earth's tyrants thus may learn 

Elsewhere that justice may awake for them. 

How innocent thou look'st, dread instrument ! 

Blood may be wiped from thee, but will its stain 

E'er leave the soul ? I'll think no more of it, 

But to the work at once. Yet first I'll kneel 

A moment, the last time perchance on earth, 

And ope my heart and all its thoughts to Heaven. 

He kneels, then soon starts up, dropping the manuscript. 

Is it a troop of spirits that I see ? 

Or an illusion is't ? Bright beings there 

Do hover o'er the King. They beck to me. 

Ye blessed messengers ! Is it to aid 

Me in the bloody work, that ye do come ? 

Will ye receive his spirit in its flight ? 

I would not harm his soul, but for his crown 

Of earth would give him a celestial one. 

They're gone. Was it illusion ? Am I mad ? 

Yet will I take it as a sign from Heaven. 

He goes to the Bed. 

How still he sleeps ! How pale and like to death ! 
Here is his heart. 'Tis here I'll strike. Ha, no, 
He breathes not. Pale and still he lies. 'Tis death. 
He's dead already — God has slain him. Done 
Himself his own just work. Yet no, his breath 
Returns — faintly, as if 'twould die away again, 
As life were struggling feebly against death. 
I thought that Heaven had saved me from this deed. 
It still is to be done. Yet scarce he breathes. 
Death with a little help will do the work. 
It stops again — perhaps he now is gone 
And if I wait I may be saved the deed. 



SCENE III.] ] m THE CONSPIRACY. 69 

A Bell tolls. 

The Castle bell ! He bade it toll — their knell. 
It is his too. It bids me haste to stop 
These fearful murders and these hideous crimes. 
I may not wait — He may revive — They'll come, 
And then too late — I must now make it sure. 
So. So. 'Tis the best way. 

He smothers the King. 

He struggled not ! 
And not a breath. Was he not dead before ? 
I know not which has slain him God or I. 
The deed whate'er and whosoe'er it be 
Is now on record in the eternal books. 
Let heavenly justice on]y credit me 
With motives pure, such as did prompt the deed, 
And with the countless blessings that will flow 
From it and I'm content. I'm clearer now 
In thought and conscience that the deed is done. 
Hist ! did not some one speak ? I thought I heard — 
Ye spirits ! Is it ye still hovering round ? 
I do believe that ye are near me now, 
And that ye have been with me in this work, 
And will bear witness of it unto Heaven. Exit. 

ACT IV.— SCENE IV. 

Hall before the King's Chamber. Enter Paul. 

Paul, I never heard that Judith was condemned. 
Nay, rather every age hath blessed her deed. 
True, 'twas her country's foe, whom she did slay. 
Yet to my mind the ruler who proves false 
And doth oppress his country, or in wars 
Involves her needlessly, more truly is 
That country's enemy, and guiltier far, 
Than any foreign hostile foe can be. 

Enter The Prince, Julian, Officer and Servants. 

Prince. Awake the King ! The citizens attack 
The palace. Haste ! the mob is marching here. 

Exeunt Officer and Servant into the King's Chamber. 

Come, comrade ! Rouse thyself. There's work to do, 



70 THE CONSPIRACY. [ACT IV 

That we may save the Princess an J the King. 
The hydra-headed monster comes, the mob. 
Oh ! for an arm and club Herculean ! 

Paul. A lyre and hand Orphean better were. 
Enter Servant. 

Servant. The King is dead ! 

The Prince. The King ! 

Julian. Dead ? 

Servant. Dead in his bed, he lies. [the guard ! 

Julian. Dead ! He has stabbed him then. Quick ! call 
Here's the assassin. Search and ye will find 
The weapon on him, that he killed him with. 
I do accuse him as the murderer. 

Enter the Officer. 

[stand ? 

Prince. Did'st thou not hear him? Silent dost thou 
He doth accuse thee and thou answerest not. 
Can'st thou have dared to do this fearful deed ? 
If so, to Heaven and to thy country's laws 
Thou'lt have to answer it. 

Paul. For what I've done 

I'll answer to my country and to Heaven. [still. 

Julian. Search him ! Perhaps the dagger's on him 

Officer. Nay, there's no wound, no blood upon the King 
Nor mark of violence. He's not been stabbed. 
He lies as calm as if he'd gently slept 
His life away. It is the hand of God. 
Our friend is here to watch at our request. 
'Tis clearly God's own judgment, and in it 
He has been His own executioner. 

Julian. I'll go and see how 'twas he did the deed. 
Exit Julian into King's room. 

Prince. Most like, 'twas in some sudden fit he died. 
His spirit ever stormy has been set 
In whirl in these wild times, and thus has flown. 
Heaven in its purposes has taken him. 
Forgive me, friend ! 'Twas clearly God's own hand. 

Officer. More like, he passed away in that deep sleep 
In which we brought him from his revelry. 
He drank too deep. A deadly stupor 'twas, 
He's never roused from it. But hear these sounds 



SCENE IV] THE CONSPIRACY. 71 

It is no time for lamentation now. 
These cries demand an answer. We must act. 
How would his spirit now have roused itself 
For fight. Alas, old warrior ! thou'lt wake 
Unto the roar of battle never more. 

Prince. Act ! Aye a mighty scene is opening now, 
'Twill need great actors to perform it well. 
Oh ! for one fit to take the leading part, 
A star, with genius for a general, — 
Heaven's gift most precious, in it's hour of need 
Unto a country, a good general ! 
Come, Paul ! go with us. Canst thou not devise, 
Some plan, some path to lead to victory ? 

Paul. Thou leadest still ! Thy hand still points me on ! 
I will obey you sire ! I'll go with you, 
To serve Heaven and our country and the Queen. 
Let me go to the people. They will hear 
My voice. The King's death I'll proclaim to them; 
Then of the gentle Princess I will speak 
And of her sweet and heavenly qualities. 
And I will point them to the enemy 
Before the walls and 'gainst them turn their rage, 
That they with us and with the troops will march 
To drive the invader routed from our soil. 
We'll in the night go forth and seize the heights 
About the foe and compass him around, 
Then at the dawning we'll rush down on him 
And strike him as with lightning out of Heaven. 

Prince. There wakes the hero. You're our leader sir ! 
The people love and they will follow you. 
I do commission you, our general, 
You've struck the path of glory the first stride. 
Fame's wreathing now a chaplet for your brow : 
Pegasus has come down and kneels to you 
You've but to mount to be among the stars. 

Exeunt all, and then re-enter Julian with PauTs manuscript. 

Julian. No wound nor sign of violence. Yet — yet 
I'm not content. There's some deep mystery here. 
That dagger and his rapt and intent mood, 
In which he rushed away— then here alone— 



ACT IV.] THB CONSPIRACY. 72 

And the King dead — dead, in his bed. It is 
A mystery. What's this I found ? 

He opens and reads the manuscript. 

His writing ! 
I found it on the floor by the King's bed. 
That shows that he was there. What does it say ? 
" The King a tyrant !" Ha ! " the Princess Queen !" ] 
Aye, that's the ladder by which he will climb. 
" Gentle and loving !" Hell ! in love with him ! 
Curse him ! I'd stab him were he here. 'Tis so. 
It is argument to justify 
The killing of the King. This devil saint ! 
'Tis said the meekest spirits, when they fell, 
Did make the fiercest devils. It is so. 
'Tis clear that he did meditate the deed. 
It shows most plainly, -'tis proof positive, 
He had it in his mind to kill the King, 
And in some way by poison or foul means 
He's wrought his purpose and has murdered him. 
And all the same as murdered me ; my hopes 
All blighted, dead in the King's death, while he 
Will love and triumph. In the Queen's love 
What height is there to which he may not climb? 
Yet, ha, I'll have him yet. I will rush forth 
And straight proclaim him as the murderer ; 
She cannot love her father's murderer ; 
And I'll so demonstrate his guilt to her, 
That hate and horror from her heart will drive 
A love so guilty and unnatural. 
Yet no, not yet. He'll have confederates. 
The mob do love him and me they do hate. 
If they should find me here, they'll wreak their wrath 
And vengeance upon me. I must away, 
And hide until this riot has been quelled 
And order is restored ; then will I come 
And in this saintly lover of the Queen 
I'll prove to her, her father's murderer. Exit. 



,8CE#E I.J THE CONSPIRACY. 



ACT V.— SCENE I. 

/Street in front of the House of Br. John. Daybreak — Anna ai the 
Window. 

Anna. -'Tis day — the light is breaking o'er the east ; 
The sun is rushing on and soon "will rise 
And give the signal for my father's death. 
Oh ! why is not Frank here ? He promised me 
To come or send me word before the dawn. 
What if he's fallen in this fearful night ! 
My father murdered ! My love slain ! Ah me ! 
I would go forth, but where ? And should he come, 
And I away. He bade me stay. Be still 
My heart — I can but wait. I must be calm. 

She Sings. 

Oh ! it is sweet to be beloved, 
And Oh ! to love, 'tis sweet. 

There comes a crowd. They're armed and pour along v 

As if into a battle they did rush. 

If he's with them, he'll make some sign to me. 

Enter a crowd of Students and Citizens armed §c, §e, 

[Haste, haste, 

Officer. Hurrah ! my men ! Would we had wings. 
Or too late for the battle we shall be, 
And miss our portion in the victory. 
A bulletin for him, who's bravest now ! 

Student. Heaven grant to us that we may be in time. 
I would give years of ordinary life, 
To be there in the hour of victory. 

Citizen. Hurrah, Hurrah ! On— On, We'll all be brave 
And merit though we win not bulletins. 
Merit is ever better than success, 
And to deserve more than to win renown. 

^Exeunt. 

Anna. He wa's not there. Most like he's gone before, 
And now stands foremost in the stately ranks, 
Where death is picking out the bravest ones. \J3ingB, 



74 THE CONSPIRACY. [ACT T. 

Oh ! it is sweet to be beloved, 

And oh ! to love 'tis SAveet. 
But both to love and to be loved 

Is bliss indeed complete. 
The light from eyes, that mutual shine 
With loving looks, is light divine. 

Ah me ! singing at such a time ! 

Father and lover both gone ; dead — or death 

Perchance poising at them his fatal shaft — - 

I all alone 1 Would I could die with them. 

'Twas the last song he sang to me — the last 

Perhaps he'll ever sing. If so, the last 

Too I will ever sing. — -Ha ! who is that ? 

My father? Father ! Blessed Heaven ! 'Tis he. 

She rushes to the door. Enter Dr. John. She throws herself into hit- 
arms. 

[to you. 

Br. John. My daughter ! Heaven has brought me back 

Anna. 'Tis Heaven indeed has brought you back to me 
For this is truly Heaven. How was it you escaped ? 

Dr. John. The King is dead. The Princess, now our. 
Queen 
Has thrown the prisons open. All are free. 

Anna. The Princess Queen ! That is glad news indeed. 
Gentle aud loving will she ever be ; 
Her sway the same even thg.^ame as liberty — 
Better if ruled by love, than to be free. 
Aye, doubly bright the dawn that's breaking now. 

Dr John- The bright dawn ever follows the dark hours. 
Let's ever cherish Patience and sweet Faith. 
The earth rolls on — however black the night, 
'Twill bring us out into the bright clear light. [cries? 

Anna. But why these guns and shouts and fearful 
Do they resist the Princess and refuse, 
To yield unto her gentle blessed sway ? 

Dr John. No. All rejoice to know that she will reign, 
And with glad welcome hail her as their Queen. 
But now without the walls a desperate fight 
Is raging with the proud invading foe. 
The citizens and troops together march 
To drive the enemy from off our soih 



SCEXE I. THE CONSPIRACY. 75 

In desperate battle are they now engaged, 

And this the din and roar of the fierce fight. [Speak ! 

Anna. Heaven be with them. How goes the battle^ 
Is there no word or sign how it inclines ? 

Dr John. Nothing but what these noises do portend. 
List to the distant sounds. There is a change ; 
The cannonading slackens aud doth seem 
To roll off in the distance, as the foe 
Did yield before our army. Sounds it not 
Fainter and farther to your ear ? Hark ! Hear ! 

Anna. Fainter the volleys strike upon the ear, 
And duller boom the echoes 'gainst the sky, 
As if the battle farther rolled away. 
Hist ! I hear music ! There it is again ! 
Do you not hear it ? From afar it comes. 

Dr John. Nothing I hear but these fierce noises round 
And the deep distant booming of the fight. 

Anna. Through all these sounds it pierces to my ear; 
Nearer and clearer to me it doth come. 
'Tis a triumphant strain — a peal of joy. 
Do you not hear it ? Clearer now it comes, 
And there — a cry I hear. A shout far off ; 
A whisper as it seems. It comes again — 
It is — it is the shout of victory. [true. 

Dr John. Heaven grant that it is so, that she hears 

Anna. Louder and higher rises that glad strain 
And clearer cise the shouts upon my ear JuU^q 
And victory — victory is all the cry. y 

Music and shouting heard in the distance. 

Dr John. I hear it now. 'Tis a triumphant peal. 
And with it mingle cheers and cries of joy — 
Shouts of glad tidings halloed from afar. 

Bells ring, cannon fired and shouting heard. 

The city now is learning the glad news, 

And pouring through the streets wild with delight. 

Aye ring ye bells ! be jubilant ye guns ! 

Let universal joy shout through the land ! 

Anna. The Lord is with us — God is on our side. 
He giveth unto us the victory. 
He makes the right to triumph by His might, 



76 THB CONSPIRACY fACT V. 

And scattereth iu flight his enemies. 
The foe doth flee ; the oppressor is no more ; 
Our Country is redeemed and we are free., 
The Lord be praised. Let glory evermore 
And thanks be paid unto His holy name. 

Dr John. Most wonderful is our deliverance. 
A great salvation has been wrought for us. 
Had He sent forth His angels visibly 
From Heaven to fight for us, His gracious help 
And goodness, unto us, in this our need, 
Could not have been more plainly manifest. 
Here come the people. They are mad with joy. 

Enter Citizens. 

[here. 

1 Cit. Huzza, Huzza ! They come ! They'll soon be 

2 Cit. Yonder they are — there is a troop of them. 
Here's the brave soldiers. See how proud they march. 

3 Cit. And well they may 'tis a proud day for them. 

4 Cit. Aye ages hence they'll speak and sing of it. 

5 Cit. A mighty hero general he'll be. 

1 Cit. He could have taught old Boney tricks of war. 

2 Cit. The greatest victory of the centur}'. 

3 Cit. The greatest since Charles beat the Saracens^ 
And slew a million of them in one day. 

4 Cit. I wish he'd lead an army 'gainst the Turks 
And rescue from them the Lord's sepulchre. 

2 Cit. A million men would march with him for that. 

3 Cit. I'd go with him. 

Sev. Cit. And I, and I. [with him. 

1 Cit. Aye, all the boys who're brave would march 
Here come they with the prisoners. Huzza ! 

Enter Soldiers with Prisoners in procession. 

Dr John. These arc the fruits, the sad results of war. 
Their soiled and ragged banners droop, as if 
Ashamed at their defeat they could not wave, 
But hung their heads and mourned their sad disgrace. 
Poor fellows ! I can feel and grieve for them. 
Alas ! that it is so. That in their shame 
And sorrow should our joy and triumph be. 
Christian and civilized we call ourselves ; 



SCENE I.] THE CONSPIRACY;' 

But still barbarian in heart remain ; 
Our culture mostly in the garbs we wear, 
In names and forms and immaterial shows, 
Merely a more elaborate barbarism. 

Anna. I knew this music from the first — far off. 
I've heard him sing it when in happy mood. 
Perhaps he come with them and bids them play it. 
There come the students yonder. He'll be there. 
They wave their banners to us, but pass on— 
He's not among them. I would know his step 
Amidst a myriad of marching men. 
Here come the wounded. Heaven help me now, 
Should he be one of them. 

Enter mournful music and then a train of wounded, and dead'. 
They continue passing along. 

Be still my heart. 
I must be calm and patiently await 
Whatever Heaven brings of joy or woe. 
But oh ! good Heaven ! if it may be thy will, 
Spare him to me. Shield and protect my love, 
And save him for his country and for me. 

Dr John. This is the price that ever must be paid 
Tor victory and glory. Who can look 
On scene like this and ever more desire 
War's guilty laurels dripping thus with blood. 
A temple should be reared of human bones 
And skulls dug from earth's thousand battle-fields, 
As Timour reared his horrid pyramids; 
And there should be entombed the conquerors, 
Who for mere glory or for selfish ends 
Do stir up wars, and in it they should lie 
For all the ages, as they glided by, 
To heap their curses and their scoj-n upon. 
And there too I would have an image reared, 
Feeding on human flesh and quaffing blood. 
And I would name it Glory, martial Fame, 
That there the fools that worship it may see 
The hideous thing they pay their homage to. 
Glory ! the idol of barbarians 'tis ; 
The ignorant and brutal worship it. 
It is a Moloch fed with human blood ; 



78 THE CONSPIRACY. [ACT V 

Its priests the conquerors and men of war, 

Who heap its horrid sacrifices up, 

And pour to it its dark libations forth, 

The tears and blood which thej do cause to flow. 

Anna. Father ! you mean not these poor wounded men, 
Who thus have suffered in their country's cause ? 

Br John. No, they the victims are, the noble ones, , 
Who have been basely, foully sacrificed. 
■The monsters I condemn, the rulers are, 
Who have betrayed them to this cruel fate. 
All honor to the loyal citizen, 
Who for his country in its need goes forth, 
To battle for its freedom and its rights. 
The patriot, who fights for liberty, 
And at his country's call, in its defence, 
Pours forth his blood, a blessed martyr is. 
With noble death he crowns a noble life. 
Holy should be the ground where he is laid. 
Let monumental marble mark the spot, 
And ever let the people there repair, 
To strow with choicest flowers the soldier's grave, 
And from full hearts in song and eulogy, 
Unto their spirits doubtless hovering near, 
Return the nation's gratitude and praise. 

Anna. Father ! These wounded soldiers will need care 
And gentle tendance in their helplessness ; 
May I not go unto the hospitals 
And minister unto them in their need ? 
Surely the daughters of the land should nurse 
The sons, who risk their lives in its defence, 
And who lie bleeding helpless in their wounds. 

Br John. Aye ! beautiful and blessed is such task. 
A nations highest duty it should be, 
Its holiest religion, e'er to care 
For those brave ones who bleed in its defence. 
And old age too, whose day of battle's o'er, 
May aid in the good work. All that we have 
And all that we can do we will devote 
Unto these bleeding heroes. Let us haste, 
We'll go together to this blessed work. 

Exit Br John into the house 



SCENE II] THE CONSPIRACY. 79 

Anna. There come a troop of students. He's not there. 
I'd know him in the crowd, as I would mark 
A stately pine towering amidst the grove. 
We'll haste unto the hospital. Perhaps 
He's there wounded and helpless. Oh dear Frank ! 
My love ! my life ! Where can I find you now ? 
Save him, good Heaven ! and bring him back to me. 
Or if that may not be, take me to him. 

Exit into the house. 

Enter Mark, Ernest and Students from the procession with the body 
of Frank. 

Mark. This is the house. 'Tis here they live. 
They were his dearest friends, whom he did love. 
He told us if he fell to bring him here. 
The door is open. Bear the body in. 

They carry the body into the house. A pause and then a shriek is 
heard within. 



Mark. A heart burst in that cry. 
Ernest- 'Twas she he loved. 



Curtain falls. 



ACT V.— SCENE II. 
In the Palace. Enter Dr. John, Ekkhst and Julias, 

Ernest. It was a mighty victory. 

Dr John. Give him 

The years of Caesar and with his renown 
He'll gild a brighter page than Caesar's is. [this dins 

Julian. What speak you of ? What mean these shouts, 
Of bells and bellowing of artillery ? 

Ernest. It is in honor of the victory. 

Julian. What victory ? 

Ernest. Have you not heard of it ? 

I thought fame had so bruited it abroad, 
That every mortal ear did ring with it. 
Last night, the self same hour the old king died, 
After they had proclaimed the Princess Queen, 
Amid'st glad acclamations, Paul arrayed 



W HIE CONSPIRACY ACT V.] 

The citizens and students with the troops., 
And swiftly led them 'gainst the enemy, 
That were encamped without the city Avails. 
Ere dawn he held the heights about the foe, 
And girt him round as with a wall of fire. 
The roar of battle with the morning rose, 
Such battle as we read of in old times, 
When heroes fought for freedom and each arm 
Scattered its legions. Soon the routed foe 
Begging their lives piteous laid down their arms. 
And our young hero conqueror, e'en now 
Returning to the city, thus is hailed 
With shouts of triumph by the exultant crowd. 

lilxeunt Dr. John and Ernest. 
Julian. We're merely puppets in the hands of Fate, 
And most fantastic tricks it plays with us. 
Last night assassin, now a conqueror, 
With glory won and an immortal name ! 
Life is a medley for mad men to play ; — ■ 
It is a strange, weird, wondrous harmony, 
Given to us poor players, all untaught, 
To play on instruments, so delicate, 
So frail and easily jarred out of tune, 
That sad, mad work we needs do make of it,- — 
And though we now and then may catch some strain 
Of the sweet heavenly melody, yet an/ 
'Tis mostly jarring and harsh dissonance. 
Well ! well, or sweet, or harsh I'll grind it through. 
He's playing well his part, I'll play mine , too. 
I'll watch my chance and in his very top 
Of triumph I will hurl the charge at him, 
And brand him as a murderer ; or else 
I'll stab and try on him the game he played 
Upon the King. Who are these coming here ? 

Re-enter Dr. John and Ernest. Then enter Mark and Soldiers with, 
Captive Officers, Banners §c, #c. They pass to one side. ' '""*' 

Dr. John. These are the banners of the enemy, 
Taken in fight — trophies of victory. 
That is the General. His star has paled 
Before this newly risen meteor 
Of ours. These are the officers. 



SCENE II.] THE CONSPIRACY. 81 

Ernest. They come 

To yield their swords and learn what terms of grace 
The Queen will grant to them. Lo ! there comes Paul. 
He's lost in musing. Let us stand aside 
And not disturb him in his reverie. 
Enter Paul. 

Paul. 'Tis not for fame or greatness that I care, 
To be a giant or of mind or limb, 
And hold the world in wonder of my might. 
But could I speak to men some true high word, 
To do them good, — some pure immortal thought, 
That might survive me in the minds of men, 
I'd rather dying speak that single word, 
Than have the mightiest sceptre given me, 
That conqueror ever wielded over earth. 

Enter the Priscb. He gives Paul a letter. 

Prince. Here is a message to you from the Queen. 
She bade me come and place it in your hand. 
She will in person shortly follow it. [thanks ! 

Paul (reading.) She thanks me for the victory. Her 
Oh sweet reward ! More precious 'tis to me, 
Than e'en the glory of the victory. 
She bids me make such treaty with the foe, 
As I deem best and most effectual 
For the true weal and honor of the realm. 
Well ! I've a plan of treaty with the foe, 
That will dispose of him effectually. 
Where are the prisoners ? 

Ernest. They yonder stand, 

Awaiting your commands. 

Paul. Let them advance. 

General and Officers come forward. 

General. Thy genius and the fate of war make us 
Your prisoners. Sadly we yield our swords ; 
Yet 'tis a solace in surrendering them, 
That we may place them thus in hero hands. 

He offers his sword to Paul. 
Paul. Take back thy sword. Give me thy hand 
It is thy heart I'd have thee yield to me [instead. 

And not thy weapon. It is victory, 



82 TBI CONSPIRACY. [ACT V. 

Nobler to win, captive to love, the soul, 

Than 'tis to take body prisoner. 

Go lead your armies back unto their homes, 

With all their arms and ancient glories decked ; 

I would not pluck an honor from their brows, 

But prouder than they came would send them back. 

And tell them, henceforth we will strive with them, 

Not in vile brutish deeds of hate and blood 

And mutual injury, but in proud works, 

That make the nations blest, — in strife for good, 

In competition of the beautiful, 

And rivalry of grand beneficence, 

And all high aims, that liken earth to Heaven. 

And henceforth say, that you have conquered us 

And gained o'er us a glorious victory, 

More glorious, than if you'd heaped our fields 

With bodies of our slaughtered citizens, 

When by some generous deed of blessed peace, 

You shall excel what we shall do for you. 

Go, sir ! You're free to march whene'er you list. 

General. It is no wonder thou didst conquer us. 

Br John. This is a new sight 'neath the sun and one 
He'll joy to see. 

TJie Prince. 'Tis the new era dawned, 

The beam that heralds the millenium. 

Ernest. A fitting climax to his victory ! 
Like Ossa piled on Pelion he heaps up 
Great deeds. 

General. It is^a double conquest. Thus 

Do I surrender unto thee. 

He throws himself into Paul's arms. 

Dr John. How mean to this a Roman triumph were,, 
In its poor pompous vanity ! How few 
The conquerors, who know how to improve 
Truly their victories ! What sad mistakes 
History records of famous battle-fields ! 
What opportunities of glory lost 
By the vain vulgar victors ! * * * * 
* * * * Ah Sedan I 

Poor copy now of Jena ! what'renown 
Might have been thine, glory unparalleled v ... . 



SCENE II. THB CONSPIRACY. 8S 

And all thine own, if great of soul, as strong 
Of arm, had been thy conquerors ! 

Julian (aside.) I now would brand him as a murderer, 
But I do fear, that midst his minions here, 
He'll have me seized and silenced and his word 
And present influence will far outweigh 
My evidence. I'll act more daringly. 
I'll stab him first with a sure fatal stroke, 
And then proclaim him as a murderer. 
And I'll so prove his crime, when he lies low, 
'Twill justify me to the gentle Queen, 
For killing him, the assassin of her sire. 
Mayhap I'm like the Indian, who to drag 
His rival down, did with him throw himself 
Over the precipice. Yet so be it. 
Die, murderer ! 

He rushes at and stabs Paul. 

Paul. God ! Didst thou let him ? Didst 
Thou mean it so ? 'Tis so. My work is done. 
I die. {Re falls.) [him ? 

Prince. What hast thou done? Didst mean to murder 

Ernest. He's stabbed and murdered him ! 

Mark. Let's kill him too. 

No business out of hell has such a fiend. 

He rushes at Julian but is held back. 

Julian. I do accuse him as a murderer. 
He killed the King. He's the King's murderer. 

Ernest. Assassin ! liar ! Would that thou didst have 
A thousand lives, that we might torture them. 
There shall be vengeance. Heaven ! thou art not Heaven 
If thou dost let this deed go unavenged. 

Enter the Queen, Pauline and attendants. 

Queen. What angry noise is this? What means this scene? 

Prince. Alas the foulest aud most mournful deed, 
That ever in the course of time was done, 
In all its lists of crime, has now been wrought. 

Ernest. Most fiendishly he has been stabbed and slain. 

Pauline , [kneeling by Paul.) 
My brother ! stabbed! slain! Dead is he ? 
Brother ! Paul ! would that I could die with thee. 



84 THB CONSPIRACY [ACT T. 

Queen. Dead ! oh! no, say not dead. Is there no hope? 
Paul ! speak to me. My hero ! 'Tis thy Queen 
Doth kneel by thee and bid thee speak to her. 
Still art thou ? Not one word ? I am thy Queen 
And I'll avenge thee. Who was't did this deed? 

Ernest. Here's the assassin. Gruel bloody fiend ! 
Let him be seized and with fierce tortures racked. 

Julian. Most gracious Queen ! I do confess myself 
The slayer of this man. It was this hand, 
That struck the blow, by which his blood pours forth. 
But 'twas because he is a murderer, 
The murderer of your father, most just Queen ! 
That I did strike the blow. Let me be tried 
And I will demonstrate by certain proofs, 
That he did kill the King most treacherously, 
While on his bed, helpless in his old age 
And innocent sleep he slumbered. When I saw 
Him here exulting, haughty in his crime, 
Justice compelled my arm and I did rush 
And strike the blow, that laid him there. 
Let me be tried and by resistless proofs 
I will make certain all that I proclaim 
And prove him your great father's murderer. 

Queen. Alas ! Can this be so ? 

She swoons and falls. 

Prince. Let her be carried hence. 

The attendants carry the Queen out. 

Ernest. Infinite liar ! villain ! murderer ! 
Thou hast most foully slain him, wouldst thou now 
Attack his pure and stainless character ? 
Why did he not, most august Prince, prefer 
This dastard accusation while Paul lived, 
And could with his least word repel the lie ? 
Why did he basely murder him, and then 
Baser than murder make this fiendish charge. 

Jul. Could he now speak I'd charge the same to him, 
As I do o'er his mute and lifeless form. 
Ha ! he doth stir. Behold ! he doth revive. 
Now let the charge be plainly put to him 
And see what he will answer. 

Paul (reviving) What means this ? 



SCENE II.] THE CONSPIRACY. 85 

Why am I here ? My scattered thoughts return. 
My Prince ! beloved sister ! Ernest ! friends ! 
I can but say farewell unto you all. 

Pauline. Paul ! speak to me a word. Make but a sign. 
This wicked fiend, who stabbed thee, makes the charge 
That thou didst kill the King. Give us a sign, 
If thou canst speak not, that the charge is false. 

Ernest. Aye baseless as 'tis base and dastardly. 

Paul. Does he accuse me ? Does he make such charge? 

Julian. Aye, sir ! that thou art the King's murderer. 

Prince. Beloved friend ! speak but a word. 'Tis not 
That we need proof to disbelieve the lie, 
Or doubt of thy most perfect innocence ; 
But we would have thy word, that it may whelm 
The fiend in utter and resistless scorn. 

Paul. Ernest ! my Prince ! I'm not a murderer. 

Ernest. There villain ! liar! said I not 'twas so ? 
We'll draw the falsehood blistering from thy lips. 
I'd stake my soul and all its hopes of Heaven, 
Upon his pure and perfect innocence, 
No spot or stain is there on his clear soul. [ter ! I 

Paul. Hush ! Ernest ! Raise me friends ! Dear sis- 
Will speak to you as I must soon to Him, the Judge, 
To whom I'm hasting. I did say 
That I was not a murderer, — and yet 
It is most true, dear friends ! the King did die 
Beneath my hand. The murderer is he, 
Who strikes in malice ; but my act was born 
Of a most holy motive and was wrought 
In pure love to my country and the world. 
He's gone, where soon I'll meet him and I'd speak 
Not harshly of the dead, but you do know, 
He was a tyrant and did crush the land, 
He should have ruled in love, most grievously 
Under his heavy tyranny ; and all 
His God given powers he did pervert and use 
For basest and most wicked purposes. 
The subject and the citizen, if they 
Do violate the law, unto that law 
Must give account and bear its penalty. 
But when our kings and rulers, they who are 
The sworn and trusted guardians of the State, 



86 THS CONSPIRACY. [ACT V 

The ministers of justice and of law, 

When they do trample on that law and use 

Their powers to base and selfish ends, there's none 

To call them to account, but God alone 

Or the true patriot, who fearlessly 

And for his country in stern righteousness 

Will greatly dare and strike for her and Heaven. 

Power is not a right, — a property; 

'Tis but a trust, for sacred uses given. 

If he to whom it is confided, doth 

Betray his trust and use it for base ends, 

It is foul treachery. A traitor he 

Unto his country, to the world, to Heaven. 

His crime involves and doth include all crime. 

He tramples on the common rights of men. 

An outlaw he doth make himself, the mark 

For every vengeful bolt Justice can hurl. 

He is his country's deadliest enemy, 

At war with every citizen and all 

Who love her justly may stand forth in her 

Defence and in his own and execute 

Justice and judgment on his guilty head. 

'Twas on these principles that I did act. 

The deed and its results are now with Heaven. 

My word is uttered. My life-work is done. 

May good result from it. I die content. 

Julian. Did I not say he would confess his crime ! 
Bear witness all that by his dying words 
He doth convict himself and that he is 
By his confession, the King's murderer. 

Prince. His act, whate'er it be, doth not excuse 
Or mitigate thy crime. Thy deed at least 
Was murder, foul and wilful murder. Take 
Him forth to prison. 

Dr John. He's breathing now his last. 

Ernest. Oh piteous lamentable sight ! 

Mark. The deed he did, though fearful it may seem 
To vulgar apprehension, yet was grand 
And noble, done of a most pure intent, 
And such as in all cases like to it 
The patriot may take for precedent. 

Ernest Nay that's a dangerous doctrine. Tyrants too 



SCENE II] THE CONSPIRACY". 87 

Can sharpen daggers keen as patriots can. 

The liberators vulnerable are 

As the usurpers. Not the only one 

Is Csesar that has fallen. Ah ! how oft 

For Freedom's martyred ones have wailed the nations. 

Et, tu Brute ! words not of mere reproach 

But prophecy. Aye, thou too, Brutus ! Thou 

At last didst for thyself entreat the fate 

With which thou struck'st down Csesar and thyself 

Didst on thyself avenge thy slaughtered friend. 

And he whom we now mourn has drank 

But of the cup he mingled. Is it not 

An usurpation, even the same wrong 

That we condemn, for one unauthorized 

To seize these fearful powers of life and death, 

And self elected constitute himself 

Both judge and executioner ? 

Dr. John. It is a question, a most solemn one. 
Yet 'tis no less a truth, a sacred truth, 
That by all principles, of law and right, 
The tyrants and usurpers are condemned, 
As chief and basest of all criminals, 
Least fit to live and most deserving death. 
Let the world's rulers, Kings and Emperors 
And Presidents be made to understand, 
That 'tis not for themselves, their powers 
Are given them, not for their pleasure, pomp, 
Or glory, but the people's good, — the peace, 
The culture and well being of the millions. 
And in this sacred trust, if they prove false, 
Guilty they stand before the world condemned, 
Of traitors chief, of malefactors worst, 
And the most criminal of criminals. 

Prince. So do I deem : and I do hold myself 
Accountable to these same principles, 
That by his dying words and living act 
Our friend has taught to us. If in the place 
I hold in the State, I do abuse my powers, 
Or bend them to base uses, then may each 
Of you be true unto your country, as 
He was, and in my bosom seek a sheath 
For all your weapons. What noise was that ? 



88 THE CONSPIRACY. ACT V.J 

Enter an Officer. 

Officer. The citizens in wild excitement rush 
About the Palace and tuniultuously 
They do lament the fate of him they loved. 
And when they saw Count Julian, as he came 
Forth midst the guards, they tore him from the troops 
And in their rage did rend him into pieces. [seem, 

Dr John. The lightnings of God's justice, though they 
Oft to fly wildly, yet strike hard and sure. 
There is no tool that's used but does His work. 

Ernest. He's passing now away. (Paul dies.) 

Prince. Alas ! He's gone. [you. 

Pauline. Paul ! Brother ! would that I might die with 

Prince. The pearly gates are swinging for him now. 

Mark. There'll ne'er a purer spirit enter them. 

Dr John. 'Tis well to sorrow for the noble dead ; 
And tears are manly now. For when 
A great, pure spirit passes hence from earth, 
It is as if a light, sought of all eyes 
On high, should go out to be seen no more. 
And this our natural grief would endless be 
And without solace, but that we have faith 
In God, that though man dies, He ever lives ; 
And that in Him, souls evermore will be 
Replenished of His spirit with the power 
Of greatness and of goodness. Hence we know 
Even as stars arise fast as stars set, 
Great men will come in place of those that die, 
And earth be never left without its lights, 
Its guides and teachers. They who greatly live 
Do never wholly die or pass away ; 
For though their forms may vanish from our sights 
Their lips no more breath music in our ears, 
Yet in their deeds they live, their works survive, 
Their words ring echoing through the centuries. 
Still fights the Spartan at Thermopylae, 
Still Milton lives immortal in his song, 
And where'er Freedom lifts its banner high, 
There Washington, its foremost champion 
Still aids to win conquests for liberty. 

Exeunt. 



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